Answer:
Never alive but practically extinct. How we miss the letters pressing the ribbon of ink. What is it?
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 the sound of me, one may dream or stamp their feet, At the sound of me, one may laugh or sometimes weep.
Voiceless it cries, wingless flutters, toothless bites, mouthless mutters.
What turns from red to black as soon as it touches water?
People take me on walks and I run and have fun. What am I?