Near The Brink Poem by Susmit Panda

I have come to the brink of my travels;
There the verge clearly unravels;
The span between two buds of a stalk
Covers the relics of my walk,
In between lies the timid, untrodden bit -
But why now must I sit?

Why slackened have my wheels of speed?
Where has fled my haste, indeed?
I hurled, desperate for the glorious brink,
Leaping a mile in every wink -
What sudden composure seems dear?
I am so very near!

Swift I did miles, wrapping all towers;
To do an inch would take hours?
I could not pluck a second to wait,
I must reach, I scurried straight -
Seconds now pass and fade as they glide,
I'm serene to take the one last stride;

Like a bleeding elf when the Moon'd sink
I knew I would cross the brink;
Look, she dies down with pale scars
Away from the audience of stars,
But still I have veins to spend,
Who knows when it would end!