I weigh the hearts, yet have no scale, my feather judges, never fails. Beside the jackal, I stand serene, a goddess cloaked in justice supreme.

I can swing or I can fly, you’ll find me in a field or in the sky.

I'm always running, but never walking. I own a bed but never use it. I lead to the C, but not the A. What am I?

I’m color, loved by many, a simple one of three, but if you start to feel me, you’ll have my sympathy. For oceans far have seen me yonder, and often do I sit and ponder, what would you do if you were feeling dabba dabba dee?

I hold a song but have no voice, A prison born from someone’s choice. Though built with care and often bright, I turn free flight to captive sight.