Answer:
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.
Within, I clean all that is bad and is old. I make juice thatβs the color of gold. Should I die, a filter machine would you need assembled to replace me and beans I resemble.
I am the third from a sparkle bright, I thrive throughout the day and night. Deep in the path of a cows white drink. I've had thousands of millions of years to think. But one of my creatures is killing me. And so the question I ask to thee, is
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.
Late afternoons I often bathe. I'll soak in water piping hot. My essence goes through. My see through clothes. Used up am I - I've gone to pot.
If itβs information you seek, come and see me. If itβs pairs of letters you need, I have consecutively three. What am I?