Answer:
First I may be your servant's name; then your desires I may proclaim; And when your mortal life is over hold all your wealth within my power.
I twist and turn and leaves a loop
I cannot be felt, seen or touched. Yet I can be found in everybody. My existence is always in debate, yet I have my own style of music. What am I?
Born of sorrow, grow with age, you need a lot of me to be a sage. What am I?
I am rarely touched but often held. If you are smart you'll use me well. What am I?
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.