Answer:
Be sure to shout for its answers are weak, but there is no language it cannot speak.
A dagger thrust at my own heart, dictates the way I'm swayed. Left I stand, and right I yield, to the twisting of the blade.
My voice is tender, my waist is slender and I'm often invited to play. Yet wherever I go, I must take my bow or else I have nothing to say.
A serpent swam in a silver urn, A golden bird did in its mouth abide, The serpent drank the water, this in turn, Killed the serpent. Then the gold bird died.
Used left or right, I get to travel over cobblestone or gravel. Used up, I vie for sweet success, used down, I cause men great duress.
An open ended barrel, it is shaped like a hive. It is filled with the flesh, and the flesh is alive!