I am a whisper of hope, a phantom glimpsed through a mirage, a verdant deception born of thirst and sun-scorched sky. Though, my reality surpasses all that's dreamed, a life giving respite, where the parched soul is redeemed.

I am a gaze that kills, a serpent's crown of dread, born from a foul rooster-hatched egg. My breath is death, my glance a fatal blight, and only mirrors may show my true, dark might.

I creep in silence across the window pane, a cold white-hue painted by an invisible brush. Though born of damp breath, I hold no life, and with the sun, I vanish in a hush.

I’m born from breath or soapy streams, I shimmer bright with rainbow gleams. I float on air, so light and sly, But touch me once, and I will die.

I'm not a chair, but I help you sit, on an equine friend where I snugly fit. With stirrups below and straps all around, I go on adventures without touching the ground!