Answer:
A thousand colored folds stretch toward the sky. Atop a tender strand, rising from the land, until killed by maiden's hand. Perhaps a token of love, perhaps to say goodbye.
Walk on the living, they donβt even mumble. Walk on the dead, they mutter and grumble
A beacon from home to guide your way. It can be a lifesaver on a stormy day. What is it?
What is made of wood but can't be sawed?
Used left or right, I get to travel over cobblestone or gravel. Used up, I vie for sweet success, used down, I cause men great duress.
What do angels sing in the shower?