The wind version of this sounds better with a light breeze rather than a full blown typhoon

I was punished for helping my friends I lost my voice but in the end My love for a self centered man Was instrumental in my tragic end.

I have no voice, yet I can roar, I have no hands, yet sculpt the shore. I travel far across the deep, And softly rock the ships to sleep. I can be caught but never bound, I crash to earth without a sound

I dance upon a liquid stage, twisting under a bright embrace. I exist only as a reflection, enlightening that which once seemed dull. Without a sun over my head I have no halo, as I’m dead. What am I?

I can celebrate a winner, decorate a gift, or hold back your hair.