In fire I fall, in ash I sleep, yet death itself I do not keep. From cinders cold my wings are spun, what am I, the deathless one?

A golden shroud we seen in myth full of wonder and mystery man hid

A serpent of steel across the land, guiding iron steeds through countryside and city, uniting distant hearts with rhythmic clatter and jarring bellows.

I'm old but I'm discovered new every day Reinvented over time with new nuance, My evolutions are reviled by some and loved by many. I have the power to possess those within earshot, causing shaking and flailing of limbs, or sometimes just the tapping of tips.

Ancient sage with wisdom as old as time, often quoted but never quite rhymed; his teachings form a path to virtue, yet he never wrote a single book for you.