Where verdant walls of rock ascend,
And sun-drenched, mossy slopes don't end,
A narrow chasm cleaves the stone,
A river whispers, quite alone.
Upon the lip of shadowed earth,
A traveler of quiet birth,
Stands cloaked in bronze and woven reed,
A solitary soul, indeed.
His eyes are fixed on what awaits,
Beyond the rope and weathered planks,
That span the void with weary grace,
A trembling link in t...