The path and the cliff

All my life I've been trotting
trotting down a meadow path
skipping rocks and picking flowers
glancing left towards the mountains.
All my life I've know besides me
there's a steep cliff going nowhere
on the right, three steps away
catching up at the horizon.
Confronting it must I, eventually
the cliff is in my heart
hidden under many a laughter
gloomy days
and rotting buds.