Answer:
Searing 'cross the pitch-black skies I scream in celebration Yet moments later my outburst through I am naught but imagination.
What goes into the water black and comes out red?
When you take away the whole from me there is always some left.
I can generate fear and some say I come out of your ears. I am as quiet as a mouse but not welcomed in the house. What am I?
My seas have no water, my mountains have no rock, and my land has no grass. What am I?
Two brothers we are, great burdens we bear. All day we are bitterly pressed. Yet this I will say, we are full all the day, and empty when go to rest.