Difficult Riddles

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Not a burden for its weight and daily carried out, He who takes it wishes it had never come about

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I scribble forms of the finest letter, And repel elements of the harshest weather. I am an arrow-aimer and a dust-breaker.

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Searing ‘cross the pitch-black skies, I scream in celebration, Yet moments later, my outburst through, I am naught but imagination.

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A home of wood in a wooded place, but built not by hand. High above the earthen ground, it holds its pale blue gems. What is it?

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People are hired to get rid of me. I’m often hiding under your bed. In time I’ll always return you see. Bite me and you’re surely dead.

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I am whole but incomplete. I have no eyes, yet I see. You can see, and see right through me. My largest part is one fourth of what I once was.

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