I sound like I belong on an ear of corn I look like I belong in early US history But I am a word that belongs in the army

I have no face, yet I watch all. I speak no words, but I heed no call. I cannot stop, I will not stay, I march forever, night and day. I heal, I break, I build, I fade I end all kings and toys once made.

They walk over; they walk under; in times of war they burn asunder

From ancient tales, carved beauty of stone, a child's toy, smooth and cold, rolling to win the game of old. Eternal and timeless, polished by years, a sculptor's dream, in halls it appears.

Breathing flames yet never burns, scales like armor, wings that churn. A myth of old, a tale untold, guarding treasures, fierce and bold.