What Is It?

It flows through the uneven branches of the deformed tree: its face contorted in pain which cannot be heard. The proud mountain tops provide no protection from its howling attack; their presence, normally awe-inspiring, but a small nuisance compared to the vastness of the advance.

Smooth...

Moves effortlessly and gracefully. Resonates clearly when it wishes and adopts silence when needed. Provides for the eagle... with its wings and feathers of a golden hue; as it glides complacently over exotic lands of great lush isles and forbidden deserts.
There to witness despair and happiness. Similar in every tongue: a giver and a taker, the beginning and the end, the alpha and the omega.

Is it such a question to ask for identity?