Answer:
Tear one off and scratch my head, what once was red is black instead!
It's what light turns into in the night
A tiny bead, like fragile glass, strung along a cord of grass.
The more I appear The less you see. So riddle me this: What could I be?
What can go up but never come down?
Two little holes in the side of a hill. Just as you come to the cherry-red mill.