Answer:
When I'm born I fly. When I'm alive I lay. When I'm dead I run.
You heart it speak, for it has a hard tongue. But it cannot breathe, for it has not a lung.
I can be written, I can be spoken, I can be exposed, I can be broken.
Golden treasure I contain, Guarded by hundreds and thousands. Stored in a labyrinth where no man walks, Yet men come often to seize my gold. By smoke I am overcome and robbed, then left to build my treasure anew
My life is often a volume of grief, your help is needed to turn a new leaf. Stiff is my spine and my body is pale. But I'm always ready to tell a tale.
My days are numbered. What am I?