Answer:
What can't you see, hear or feel, until its too late. What shadows love, and shopkeepers hate?
It is a part of us, and then replaced. It escapes out bodies, to a better place. The world becomes its sizeable home. Its passions unrestraint, the planet it roams.
What runs around all day. Then lies under the bed. With its tongue hanging out?
There are several different kinds, but the one you pick doesn't do its job. What is it?
Not a burden for its weight and daily carried out, He who takes it wishes it had never come about
What is always coming but never arrives?