High born, my touch is gentle. Purest white is my lace. Silence is my kingdom. Green is the color of my death.

High born, my touch is gentle. Purest white is my lace. Silence is my kingdom. Green is the color of my death.

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Who spends the day at the window, goes to the table for meals. And hides at night?

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You use a knife to slice my head. And weep beside me when I am dead.

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What is that which, though black itself, enlightens the world without burning?

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I look at you, you look at me, I raise my right, you raise your left.

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You need a key to receive an answer from me. The answer you'll find is straight from your mind. What is it?

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Riddle of the Day

May 14, 2026

What covers its face with its hands, speaks no language, yet most known what it's saying?

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