I climb without a ladder, I burn though there's no flame, No fire kindles me, yet I flare, I measure truth in mercury’s stare.

I am hot and cold. I am the color of your excrete. I could be made from civet's poop. Most people love to start their day with me.

I can hear, but I cannot see. You might see me in a dark night.

I make castles that vanish, but I do not make washing up easy. People often watch the flow of time with me.

My name is a color, but it's not why I'm sweet, I'm Venus and Mars, and a star without heat, I'm a symbol of war, and I'm quite close to death, But my hips will still sway when you can't feel my breath