Answer:
I fly, yet I have no wings. I cry, yet I have no eyes. Darkness follows me. Lower light I never see.
Never alive but practically extinct. How we miss the letters pressing the ribbon of ink. What is it?
I have three hundred cattle, with a single nose cord
Stealthy as a shadow in the dead of night, cunning but affectionate if given a bite. Never owned but often loved. At my sport considered cruel, but that's because you never know me at all.
Some try to hide, some try to cheat. But time will show, we always will meet. Try as you might, to guess my name. I promise you'll know, when you I do claim.
Within, I clean all that is bad and is old. I make juice thatβs the color of gold. Should I die, a filter machine would you need assembled to replace me and beans I resemble.