Answer:
Whoever makes it, tells it not. Whoever takes it, knows it not. Whoever knows it, wants it not
I heard of a wonder, of words moth-eaten. That is a strange thing, I thought, weird. That a man's song be swallowed by a worm. His blinded sentences, his bedside stand-by rustled in the night - and the robber-guest. Not one wit the wiser. For the words he had mumbled.
Weight in my belly, Trees on my back, I travel fast in my place, but feet is a feature I lack
What measures out time. Until in time all is smashed to it?
I am two-faced but bear only one. I have no legs but travel widely. Men spill much blood over me. Kings leave their imprint on me. I have greatest power when given away, yet lust for me keeps me locked away.
People take me on walks and I run and have fun. What am I?