Answer:
A dagger thrust at my own heart, dictates the way I'm swayed. Left I stand, and right I yield, to the twisting of the blade.
What covers its face with its hands, speaks no language, yet most known what it's saying?
A skin have I, more eyes than one. I can be very nice when I am done.
You eat something you neither plant nor plow. It is the son of water, but if water touches it, it dies.
I move without wings, Between silken string, I leave as you find, My substance behind.
What did the piece of wood say when he saw the screwdriver and screws approaching?