The Path Sought

Against the odds, I pray my pain by choice.
As all summers left for me to age fade;
The years I have gained flow along my voice.
The current of time explores the path laid
In front of me, and all, to walk along.
I walk, a scared man, through withering day;
Some faith, or some hope, I carry lifelong.
I trip, I stumble, but must not delay;
For fear I would miss the ending of choice.
Although it changed, this life must end well told;
All worth living has never come softer.
I have said in life that I must grow old;
To dance with the shadow that fills the brim,
To the beat of taps of white feathered limb.