Made from a metamorphic rock, old skool teachers still use me to help get their ideas across. I will be covered in dust until a sponge returns me to my matte black, maybe green, finish.

I am not female nor male, but I share in name. I am not plate or pad, but I am in-between. I am not whole, but I am forged ring by ring. I am not weak, I am but steel. Wear me now, for I save from others steel. What am I?

I create everything, whatever you please. But once you put me away, my powers cease. I have caused awe, I have caused war. You've gazed at my creations before. I bring forth the thoughts in one's mind giving them life on leather so fine. What am I?

In olden times, I'd follow queens And though not strong, I could lift trains I'm flimsy ark, I'm a flightless crane And, spoken, a little girl's first name

Nationalistic vows I seek From where I justify deceit, a shed of blood reeks Where a hog below sleeps And the hog above reliefs Until that hog griefs The voice held high up the mountain may not weep I create this all with a sneak What am I?