Answer:
I don't have eyes, but once I did see. Once I had thoughts, but now I'm white and empty.
High born, my touch is gentle. Purest white is my lace. Silence is my kingdom. Green is the color of my death.
Talks like this, a green wise man does. Guess my clue, you will.
The stack just might be sent all over. Full of what's new, yet it's nearly obsolete.
What flies forever, Rests never?
What is so fragile that saying its name breaks it?