In twilight's beginning, an angel remained,
Guarding us, yet his efforts were strained.
Immortal, alone, while friends passed away,
The weight of his duty led him astray.
In his resolve, he chose to divide,
Multiplying his essence far and wide.
To heal, protect, and right what's wrong,
In many forms, he grew strong.
Now scattered in unity, a guiding light,
An angel's sacrifice, shining bright.
Mending the broken with gentle might,
A guardian's legacy in the night.
-A poem over three hundred years old, author unknown