I am a being that can take any form,
Like that old tree frog.
Or that bright neon cat,
An ancient forgotten mat.
A striped zebra,
A spitting llama.
A singing river,
A long lost lover.
A hopeful journey,
A popular story.
The bright yellow sun,
To the mystifying moon.
A stinging rose thorn,*
*From all of these a story is born.

The mist creeps up on you,
Like a long forgotten grudge.
And hey **,
It'll bite you like a savage foe.

You can't see through its face,
It's body blocks your smell.
When will you escape?
Only time will tell.

Set me on fire,
Like the burning sun.
My tail will give you hope,
As I become a shooting star.

Throw me into the fire,
Please let me burn.
Throw me onto the bonfire,
And light I shall return.
Like a shooting star to Earth,
Who gives light as it dies.
However the star gives birth,
*To our wishes or demise.

Rise from your ashes,
May you be reborn.
Be the burning bird,
Who rules ancient lore.

Those suns who have lived for millions of years,
Can now know longer burn.
So god bless their explosions,
And from them we can learn.

My tail leaves vapor,
My wings give you flight.
My body gives you accommodation,
As you sleep on me through the night.

**What Am I?