To the Master

It happens soon that there is no me.
You’ll cross the world in getting on my trail.
And step by step
You’ll fill the map
But only drawn in gale.

Oh, would you cede your fate
And feel down with your gash?
If then, it is too late,
My heart is stark
And almost crashed…

… With poison!

Now, are you looking for some antidote?
My disparate Master, do recall the death.
The narrow slot
In perfect plot
Is sparking off my stress.