I have a heart that doesn’t beat,
I can glow without heat.
I live but have no breath,
I can die without a death.
What am I?

For our ambrosia we were blessed, By Jupiter, with a sting of death. Though our might, to some is jest, We have quelled the dragon’s breath. Who are we?

I saw a man in white, he looked quite a sight. He was not old, but he stood in the cold. And when he felt the sun, he started to run. What am I talking about?

I cannot be other than what I am,
Until the man who made me dies.
Power and glory will fall to me finally,
Only when he last closes his eyes.

What am I?

What goes up, but at the same time goes down?
Up toward the sky, and down toward the ground.
Its present tense and past tense too,
Come for a ride, just you and me!

A red house is made out of red bricks.
A blue house is made out of blue bricks.
What is a green house made out of?

I cannot hear or even see, But sense light and sounds there may be, Sometimes I end up on a hook, I can be combined with a book. What am I?

Without a bridle, or a saddle,
Across a thing I ride a-straddle.
And those I ride, by help of me,
Though almost blind, are made to see.

What am I?

What can stand in place of a country but still fold away in a drawer?

I’m sometimes white and always wrong.
I can break a heart and hurt the strong.
I can build love or tear it down.
I can make a smile or bring a frown.