The Echo of the Sphinx

She sits still, ashen but aglow, her soul wandering, creeping forward with tales to tell. She sat and watched you before, spinning you riddles — now she begs you to follow. Guiding you on, guiding you through, but here she has one last riddle for you.

Tell me, child,
you lay to rest but wake anew,
worlds quiver and shiver around you.
Dreams may wake or crumble —
all rests with the mind’s downfall.
Let your energy set anew.

Tell me, child... who are you?