I Cannot Be Other Than What I Am
Riddle: 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.
Riddle: 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.
Riddle: Only one color, but not one size. Stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies. Present in sun, but not in rain. Doing no harm, and feeling no pain.
Riddle: I am the fountain from which no one can drink. For many I am considered a necessary link. Like gold to all I am sought for, but my continued death brings wealth for all to want more.
Riddle: Reaching stiffly for the sky, I bare my fingers when it’s cold. In warmth I wear an emerald glove and in between I dress in gold.
Riddle: You saw me where I could not be. Yet, often you see me. What am I?
Riddle: Tickle with your fingers and a song it will sing. Be careful, though, you may break a string. What is it?
Riddle: I am beautiful, up in the sky. I am magical, yet I cannot fly. To people I bring luck, to some people, riches. The boy at my end does whatever he wishes. What am I?