Up a creek of feces without my aid, nautical nonsense ensues until you grasp the handle of this blade.

You've made it, the summit, you're at the top. I'm the apex, the peak, so you have to stop. Whether a mountain or career, The only way is down, when you're here.

I reach for the sky, yet my feet stay on stone. Born of faith or pride, I stand alone. No leaf, no flame, yet I rise higher What am I, with a name that rhymes with higher?

Tourists climb me, yet bare feet hate me.

I start with the simplest verb, Hide a pronoun in my core, My end is lured by flame, But I outgrow them all.