Through valleys and over mountains I roam, Guiding through deserts and forests, through shadow and sun. Poets honor me in verse and in ode; Some run toward me with purpose; others, from where I lead do they run.

A frozen wall I move at such a slow pace. Although, lately I seem to be losing the race.

I'm from the old times when we all used to be one Today we're many and keep distancing from each other What I become endure the invisible lines all over me

At nature's edge, where the brave dare stand, A sheer drop meets the sea and land. Where eagles nest and echoes play, A silent giant guards the bay.

Woeful me, Due to the pit I hold, My body is soft, and often sold, I fall to the ground, It bruises my round. Georgia is where I am knowingly found.