I might be a defect, I might be to blame or a line on the Earth, but the word is the same. What am I?

A passage of water connecting the sea, Or what you would be when returning safely. A mind that’s healthy, A sleep that’s top tier, A sensible choice, Tell me, what do you hear?

A rock group of four men, all famous, no strings, People flock to see them, though none of them sing.

A force of nature; I only destroy. No fury, no mercy, no grief, no joy. My march is eternal - relentless, untamed. By time's gentle hand, my mark is proclaimed. I tear down mountains and cliffs on my own; I can also leave you a smooth polished stone.

I wear a crown of storms that never sleep, my bands of colors swirl crimson deep. So many worlds within my sway, yet no solid ground beneath the fray.