Answer:
Die without me, never thank me. Walk right through me, never feel me. Always watching, never speaking. Always lurking, never seen.
The stack just might be sent all over. Full of what's new, yet it's nearly obsolete.
I make you weak at the worst of all times. I keep you safe, I keep you fine. I make your hands sweat. And your heart grow cold. I visit the weak, but seldom the bold.
At night I come without being fetched. By day I am lost without being stolen.
Always wax, yet always wane: I melt, succumbed to the flame. Lighting darkness, with fate unblest, I soon devolve to shapeless mess.
How do you know if a sniper likes you?