Impressions of old, ancient secrets I hold. Life turned to stone, in the ground all alone

I'm often separated by color. In the past I'd be in farms and fields, but now I'm a many in factories. I'm beated and I'm whipped, but I don't bleed. We used to be sold by the dozens, but now, it's harder come to buy us.

Often beaten into shape and put into chains. We might be mistaken for fool's, but we aren't animals; We still have veins. Turned into a commodity, some might strike me, but I'll not bleed and I'll seldom react. We built great wealth, that is a fact.

Cloaked in silver, I ride the sky, a goddess with a watchful eye. Sister to the sun’s fierce flame, in legends old, I earned my name. I guide the hunt, I bless the night, with silent steps and borrowed light.

I ride with the sun and sleep under stars, my boots dusty from journeys afar. With a rope in my hand and a hat on my head, I tame the wild where others have fled. I don’t need a saddle to carry my pride, who am I, with the open range as my guide?