Answer:
My prefix is food. My suffix is rude. My infix comes in rounds. I keep you off the ground. What Am I?
Iron on a mammal. Mammal on your feet.
At night I come without being fetched. By day I am lost without being stolen.
It cannot be seen, cannot be felt, Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt. It lies behind stars and under hills And empty holes it fills. It comes first and follows after, Ends life, kills laughter.
Not a burden for its weight and daily carried out, He who takes it wishes it had never come about
What sphinxes employ and players enjoy.