Answer:
It is a sound of empty, speak and it'll talk back plenty. But all the more you yack, you'll get the same words back.
Dies half its life. Lives the rest. Dances without music. Breathes without breath.
When Iām metal or wood, I help you get home. When Iām flesh and Iām blood, In the darkness I roam.
What's black when you get it, red when you use it, and white when you're all through with it?
With pointed fangs it sits in wait. With piercing force it doles out fate, over bloodless victims proclaiming its might. Eternally joining in a single bite.
I can only be played on a windy day