Beneath the dying sun's last fiery breath, where shadows dance and whisper tales of death, a spark of life in ash doth gently glow, 'tis warmth in slumber through the night dost grow.

I am a mystery. I am a abyss. I am older than anyone. Yet move the same as day one. What am i

I come from a tree. I am a companion to a man with a long beard. I am used to create and to destroy. What am I?

I’m a wound the earth remembers, Carved by patience, time, and flow. People marvel at my great expanse, With echoes down below. Though I’m empty, life surrounds me; My layers, they run deep. I am a place the river founded, Millions of secrets I do keep.

What runs towards the bank and along it, only to run away from it?