I’m above your head, yet out of your sight, where forgotten treasures sleep day and night.

In the framework of life, I quietly dwell, Hidden beneath, where stories to tell. Strong as iron, yet I never boast, I'm the ghostly host.

I have no voice, yet I unlock secrets. I have a single eye, but I am completely blind. What am I?

I’m light as a feather, yet born to begin,
 a delicate thing that lets warmth enter in. I’m gathered for when the weather turns cold, taken from nature, quiet and old. I need only a spark, a flicker, a glow,
 and suddenly light begins to grow. I can be kindling, yet mostly not quite,
 a glimmer of hope in the dark of night. 
 What am I?

A drill bit with an indestructible core... A luxury forever more.