In this place, people lie, people cry, and people ask why. In this place, people sleep, people weep, and people's solitude, they keep. What is it?

In this place, people lie, people cry, and people ask why. In this place, people sleep, people weep, and people's solitude, they keep. What is it?

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I am the hole in the night, the ever watchful eye. I return in a cycle, to enlighten the sky.

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A shimmering field that reaches far. Yet it has no tracks, And is crossed without paths.

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When I live I cry, If you don't kill me I'll die.

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My first half is normally made of stone, my second is crazy, and I taste sweet when complete.

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A cowboy rode into Friday. He stayed in town for three days and rode back on friday. How is that possible?

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Riddle of the Day

Jan 30, 2026

What did the piece of wood say when he saw the screwdriver and screws approaching?

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