He was "Himself"

His master had told him once ,
“We shall cross that bridge someday, as the great men had done.”
The master began his first try,
Eyes numb with fear, and throat dry.
There were people who had fallen off, and never come back.
And he stared at his master with eyes so blank.
The master took a few steps, and merrily rejoiced.
The moment that followed , was gory, he fell off and died.
He stood there on the cliff, and watched his master disappear.
It was his turn now, to cross the bridge, his heart captivated in fear.
There was not a moment , that he could feel and treasure.
His eyes were filled with, indifference to pain and pleasure.
He knew he too, would die, just as his master had.
All he knew not was, that, there was somebody praying,
To take away from him , the bad.

He closed his eyes, and stepped on the bridge.
His forehead, waited for the, death’s kiss.
But every time, it came near him, the spell,
Of his selflessness, gave death, a miss.
He knew not, but he had reached the other side.
The bridge was crossed, and it was no longer a night.

Somebody’s prayers were answered,
He finally fought his fears.
He thanked the bridge, for not letting him die,
With a silent flow of tears.

He saw his master die, he suffered pain and anxiety,
Yet he walked ahead.
He thought it was the end, he accepted it quietly.
It was a new beginning instead.

He saw someone die, yet took a chance
And did not hide in a shell.
For, under the open blue sky, he was not his master,
He was himself.

-Alisha