Answer:
Tall in the morning, short at noon, gone at night. But I'll be back soon.
With pointed fangs it sits in wait. With piercing force it doles out fate, over bloodless victims proclaiming its might. Eternally joining in a single bite.
I'm full of holes, yet I'm full of water.
I have one eye. See near and far. I hold the moments you treasure and the things that make you weep.
What runs around all day. Then lies under the bed. With its tongue hanging out?
What is so fragile that saying its name breaks it?