They say I am the wind, always passing by
I couldn’t agree more, I heave with a sigh
Some say I am the sea, roaring in turbulence
Or the highlands serene with all its prudence

But some know me as a prince of a clan
Yet some remember the image of an old man
Or a beggar by the street in the hot summer days
A little child playing by the sun’s golden rays

I am the flowers of May, the nymphs once said
I am the shadows and gray, said the undead
The fire of a torch in the darkest dungeons
Or the spike of an ancient ****** bludgeon

The truth is I am all that you see
I am all that you touch, everything that is free
I am crawling with life, I breathe, I feel
I am very long dead, I am the unreal.

The dragons breathed fire in the core of my soul
I smell of rot and decay, as that of a ghoul
I am the cold blade of a knight’s heavy sword
What am I? For I am only a single word.

Praise the mind, the pen and the paper
Oil in the lamp, the fuel of wonder
Everything comes alive, with the softest whisper
Many have failed to render the answer

Read this twice in the 21st century
The following clues are never a mystery
From here, count your footsteps back in time
You’ll pass the guardians of the holy shrine.

Keep in mind that I linger all around you
I am the enigma of the lines which grasp you
I feel you, and touch you and see you
Read again and you’ll see me too.