Answer:
A word I know, six letters it contains. Subtract just one and twelve remains.
Three little letters, a paradox to some. The worse that it is, the better it becomes.
In this place, people lie, people cry, and people ask why. In this place, people sleep, people weep, and people's solitude, they keep. What is it?
I appear in the morning. But am always there. You can never see me. Though I am everywhere. By night I am gone, though I sometimes never was. Nothing can defeat me. But I am easily gone.
I have a title and many pages I am a genteel of genteel descent I am a killer veteran of war I am a slave to my lord Pledged to his service.
What never gets any wetter no matter how hard it rains?