Ok, first of all I'm sorry that the poem isn't grouped up into groups of four, but fanfiction won't let me do that. Second, I'm sorry I haven't updated The Shifter in a while, but I'll put an explanation on the story itself to explain that. Third, I haven't really edited this that much, since I don't really care about this much, I just wanted to write something and get it out to show people I'm not dead. Fourth, I'm sorry it doesn't go into much detail of her life, but I really didn't want to spend five hours on something I didn't care about in the first place.

In the beginning,

Life was grand.

So many people,

To hold my hand.

My carrier was fun,

My creator was strong.

They clapped when I sang,

They were there all day long.

Then I grew up,

And the war began.

People dying left and right,

To the Autobots I ran.

When my creator and carrier offlined,

I barely felt a sting.

My war-hardened spark,

Prioritizing everything.

War now, mourn later,

Was my motto until now.

When your gentle optics winked at me,

Beneath you crinkled brow.

I fell for you in a moment,

Not an atom of me left to fight.

The war against something I no longer remembered,

When I took a glimpse at your light.

So my resolve crushed,

I became yours, and you became mine.

We were the perfect team,

And for a while, everything was fine.

On a dark night, when the sky was streaked red,

I felt you saying goodbye.

And the bond broke as you spark was extinguished,

Only I couldn't ignore it this time.

No one dared mention your name,

And no one dared stop me from fighting.

The Decepticons would pay with their sparks,

For the tragedy they helped in writing.

My spark went dark, thirsty for revenge,

Though its cup was never full.

Insanity was not an option,

Though I always felt its pull.

Finally, in a showdown of sorts,

Against a Decepticon a good as me.

I made one mistake, but that was all it took,

And he wounded me fatally.

He knew that he had won the match,

When I failed to stand.

He left me to die alone,

Without anyone to hold my hand.

Ok, so I do not like the version of The Shifter that has gone onto paper, so I'm going to write it all out before reposting the story. I have filled A LOT of plot holes, and I think that I have created a more reading worthy version of my story in my mind. The problem is, it is being extremely rebellious as I try to take it from my head, and force it onto paper. Basically, it'll be slow going. I hope to finish it before I die of old age. No, the story is not dead, but it will probably be another couple of years before it's posted.