Answer:
Each morning I appear to lie at your feet, all day I follow no matter how fast you run. Yet I nearly perish in the midday sun.
A caribbean shape that makes ships disappear
Scythe of darkness, Shadow’s light. Guiding eye of thirteenth sight.
Searing 'cross the pitch-black skies, I scream in celebration, Yet moments later, my outburst through, I am naught but imagination.
Reaching stiffly for the sky, I bare my fingers when its cold. In warmth I wear an emerald glove and in between I dress in gold.
If it’s information you seek, come and see me. If it’s pairs of letters you need, I have consecutively three. What am I?