How long?

I tread as my toes decide
while the mind tries to learn the stride
Colors, fancies, trinkets, classy demeanour, these allure
But the charioteer within blows the conch of humble cries.
Stymied by the haze of the move unsure,
Eyes hastily want to witness the wait deep inside.
Longing growing longer than ever
To dive into the reservoir
Where do I fall as I see not
Where you hide
May I go deaf oh fear!
The nectar I can't wait to drown that's right near.