Answer:
Searing 'cross the pitch-black skies, I scream in celebration, Yet moments later, my outburst through, I am naught but imagination.
What always runs but never walks, often murmurs, never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never eats?
Alive without breath, As cold as death, Clad in mail never clinking, Never thirsty, ever drinking
I'm not man's best friend, I'm their enemy, I can mark your end, yet you do not see me, I am very small, but very tough, If you have me, then you have it rough.
Thirty men and ladies two, gathered for a festive do; Dressed quite formal, black and white; soon movement turned to nasty fight.
Lynn likes grapes but not potatoes. She likes squash but not lettuce, and she likes peas but not onions. Following the same rule, will she like pumpkins or apples?