Answer:
When the clock has no angle, I will own yesterday, tomorrow and tonight. What am I?
Marking mortal privation when firmly in place. An enduring summation inscribed in my face.
Who plays when he works and works when he plays?
I hold two people together but touch only one.
Deposit red liquid in me.
It flows out of the soil, It burns you if it boils, And holds us in its coils, More valuable than gold, As black as it is old.