Answer:
It is the electronic version of junk mail or a salty meat in a can.
Whoever makes it, tells it not. Whoever takes it, knows it not. And whoever knows it wants it not
They make no sense at all, In them you either fly or fall. They make you do it all. Their need is biologic, but they are most illogic. They are not real but still can be achieved, If they are just believed
I march before armies, a thousand salute me. My fall can bring victory, but no one would shoot me. The wind is my lover, one-legged am I. Name me and see me at home in the sky.
I wear a red robe, with staff in hand, and a stone in my throat.
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?