What loses its head in the morning but gets it back at night?

I promise, I do, I offend, I point, and I fight. What am I?

Glass can't create me, but stone and steel do, I'm made by the sun, but out of its view, I can be tiny, and also be vast, In the shape of my maker, like a spell I am cast.

I am a whisper of color, reborn from a self-spun tomb. I dance on a breeze, a transient link between worlds, a symbol of transformation and the soul's uncertain flight beyond the veil.

I devour all things. I both shape and erase mountains and turn empires to dust. I am ever-present, but always fleeting. I’m both your greatest ally and your most relentless enemy.