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

Rolling, sprawling sea of grass, A reminder of a simple past. A cloudless sky, a lone flying bird, A glimpse of a grazing herd. The world moved on, I await my fate, my first name is known as Great.

The ancients used it to battle at a distance. It is how the sophisticated catch the olive in their martini. Append mint, and you may taste it first thing in the morning and last thing at night.

I drift where clouds and birds might play, a skyborne craft that floats all day. Not a plane, nor quite a blimp, my shadow moves without a limp.

I marked the end of roaming. Working me is tough, hopefully no groaning. Lo, my existence birthed writing! For my land and bounty, there was much fighting. I need care from early hours till light's daily respite. Can you guess it?