I left no breath, no sound, no cry, Yet linger still where eons lie. Not born of ink, yet shaped in lore, pressed deep beneath the rocky floor. No mind recalls the form I cast, Yet stone remembers what could not last.

Essential to life, but I'm made from two deadly parts. Essential to life, but I can make water dangerous to drink. Essential to life, but I can be used symbolically to ruin fertile soil. Essential to life, but I can make food practically inedible.

I bloomed in red where thorns defend, Yet climbed the sky where mornings end. A color soft, a petaled name, On shields I rest in stately frame.

Born of golden shower, loved a woman of starry power, the harpes kiss on oracle's breath, a death unusual for one such as me.

A country’s own choice to stand on its feet, no longer controlled, a victory sweet. In the states I am celebrated with barbecues and a lighted night sky full of bursts in the sky.