The brink

The sands of time they never stop,
The flow at first seems small,
Our start is filled with such big dreams,
We're sure we will walk tall.

Our middle years we have arrived
At Shangri-la we think,
But life's big waves our castle swamp
Which takes us to the brink.

And just before the sands runs out
You ask is this the end,
Will I end up in Darwin's void
A life no dividend.

But is this so speaks a faint voice
Long buried in the deep,
A nagging doubt, our Makers gift,
A promised beach for sheep.