I am a mix of two things. Created by wealth but bad for your health. I block something bright and taint the night. What am I?

I spread through populations fast and wide and find the crowded places where I hide, I travel on the breath the hand the kiss and take what health the unsuspecting miss. I do not choose my host by wealth or name, the young the old the strong receive the same. I force the cities quiet and the borders shut and leave the hospitals beyond their cut. I am the moment nature shows its reach, arriving faster than the cures can teach. What am I

A little bat called for his dad, saying that there's a monster under his bed. To which the dad said; For the last time son, - is not under your bed!

I sleep in fields of gold beneath the sun, A humble grass until the day is done. In heavy stone I’m ground to make your bread, Or steeped in boiling vats to warm your head.

I wear a crown of emerald green that never fades to gray, I shed a tear of golden sap to seal my wounds away. I hide my seeds in wooden armor, tightly locked and round, And drop a carpet made of needles softly on the ground.