I am a seven letter word. My first two are a way of saying hello, and the rest is what you read in a book.

A birthday present deadly, a treasure most precious, An unlikely find in a dark, misty crevice. It binds without chains, draws all things round, Destined to rule, it wants to be found.

I wear no face, yet I kiss the air. I ride on whispers, unseen, everywhere. I turn warmth to fever, song into moan, Till earth grows fat with flesh and bone.

In a glass dome, a bright idea springs, With Edison’s spark, the darkness it swings. A filament's dance, the shadow's flight, A tiny sun in the curtain of night.

Born in eighties and still captivated your mind, Birthed a legend who jumped and climbed, Ladders and barrels were my tools, Rescuing damsel was for fools.