Answer:
What is so delicate that saying its name breaks it?
I am not alive but I can die. What am I?
I am put on the table, cut, but never eaten. What am I?
What always ends everything?
What is the word that even in plain sight remains hidden?
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.