On the verge of destiny
Often in an amble of thought,
Outlines of several footsteps I caught,
Along with a shadow firm and complete,
A story that time could not defeat.
A stature in epics well foretold,
Match to the pictures we clearly hold,
In search of an answer strung unknown,
To questions of life evenly thrown.
On that verge, in the end of our search,
We wander how high, we placed our perch,
Just to attain, a fair clear sight,
Unaware of how time, prepares its fight.
Each word we then draw, we form a peril,
In a tip-toe of wanders, the battle is still,
Against a world that seldom fails,
To guide us through our destined trails.