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.
My tongue hangs out as I run over fields and streets all day. I get tied up every morning and untied at night.
It is destruction made out of thin air, You hear it howl and give a prayer, Through barns and houses it will tear. It is a deadly funnel, Of violent and twisting air.
When I'm born I fly. When I'm alive I lay. When I'm dead I run.
Power enough to smash ships and crush roofs. Yet it still must fear the sun.
Iām grown from darkness but shine with a pale light. Very round I am and always a lady's delight.