I have no form, yet I shape the world. I can be sharper than a sword, but lighter than a feather. I build empires and topple kings, but I cannot lift a stone. I travel at the speed of light but am trapped within your skull.

I bared my teeth, a bat took flight, My voice a storm in heavy night. Prince of Darkness, yet I shine, Now I rest in endless Sabbath time.

The first place the sun touches every day. The king of horror was born by my bay. My lighthouses shine over rocky seas, Where lobsters wander as they please.

I’ve lined the purse of kings and knaves, adorned the saints, yet fed the graves. I bend with ease, yet never fade, in sunlit hue I’m richly made. What am I?

I flow in joy, yet leave some sore, In goblets raised on banquet floor. From clustered fruit I’m coaxed and kept, In vaulted dark, where time has slept. I’m sipped in calm or revel’s roar. A treasure drunk, and something more.