I gleamed where senators once tread, A silent witness to the dead. In Rome’s great heart, I played my part, a weapon swift that pierced the heart. By hands once sworn to loyal trust, I brought down Caesar to the dust. What am I?

I'm rather thin and often slim; I have a back, no head nor limb. And, I have teeth, yet do not bite; I smooth the rough, set crooked right. Serve boy and girl, both man and beast; The good and bad, the most and least.

A small flame that brightens the room, yet slowly melt towards its doom. It lacks life, stands still, yet it still dies. Destined to brighten as it expires. Its scent may be sweet as it fades from sight, then its smoke slips away into the night.

Invisible architect of cosmic dance, its unseen hand shapes galaxies' romance. Elusive as a shadow, it holds the universe in a silent embrace.

Wreathed in golden rays, my fiery mane, I follow the light and bless the rain. Towering and proud, I was in my youth; but now that I'm old, I've started to stoop. Rend the skin to reach the meat, for it pains me not when you claim my treat.