Answer:
What can be drawn but never taken?
What has words but never speaks?
With pointed fangs I sit and wait; with piercing force I crunch out fate; grabbing victims, proclaiming might; physically joining with a single bite. What am I?
What is the word that even in plain sight remains hidden?
What two keys cannot open any door?
It flows out of the soil, It burns you if it boils, And holds us in its coils, More valuable than gold, As black as it is old.