Answer:
What is it that no man ever yet did see, which never was, but always is to be?
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.
I tremble at each breath of air, and yet can heaviest burdens bear.
A kind of weather that comes your way, but add a "D" and it will run away
The more of them you take, the more you leave behind. What are they?
What is always coming but never arrives?