Answer:
Marking mortal privation when firmly in place. An enduring summation inscribed in my face.
I have numbers on my face but can't find 13 any place. What am I?
I am an instrument that you can hear but cannot see or touch. What am I?
I can sizzle like bacon. I am made from an egg. I have plenty of backbone but lack a good leg. I peel layers like onions but still remain whole. I can be long like a flagpole yet fit in a hole.
What goes through cities and fields but never moves?
Runs over fields and woods all day. Under the bed at night sits not alone, With long tongue hanging out, Resting at your feet until we go for a walk