I mark the start, yet bring no end, A silent gift that life will send. From nothing's hush, I come to earth... The spark, the cry, the moment: .....?

I sleep in tales both old and grand, With hoarded gold and scorched-out land. A whisper wakes me, wings take flight... I breathe in fear, and blaze the night.

I bear no crown, yet guard my throne, In paper walls by jaws alone. My temper’s short, my waist is too... Approach in peace, or you may rue.

Within my mouth, the offering dies, Its bones left black beneath the cries. I whisper warmth in breathless air, While watchers linger, lost in stare.

I am known for a body of water, but I do not think you can swim in me. You might even avoid me altogether me.