I am a palace built for the dead, Where a crown is replaced by a stone o'er the head. A monument carved out of sorrow and pride, To honor the secrets and spirits inside.

Butterflies flapping, Parents with a sleeping child, Secrets being shared Start with something untrustworthy, followed by the location of the first museum. Next an Egyptian god, then a three way intersection. Finish with an atom or molecule with an unequal number of electrons and protons.

I am a sea of grass, vast and wide, Where wind whispers secrets, secrets I hide. Few trees dare to stand, where the bison once cried.

Once I was worth more than a fortune Men fought and died over me Now I'm only remembered when needed in a pinch

Apple, a Don McLean song, or a teen comedy movie