I have a sole, but cannot walk, I have a tongue, but cannot talk. Though often paired, I'm rarely sought, Unless your weary feet are caught.

I was born to chase horizons, Racing storms no man could tame. Kingdoms waited for my cargo, And distant ports all knew my name. The seas released me from their grip. What once outran the wind itself, Now passes lightly by your lip. What once was measured out in miles, Is now measured out in hair. What am I?

I descend from tyrant kings of old, which roamed and ruled free of fear, Yet today I can be bought or sold, and you think me a coward, I hear, But between me and my oval mold, you don't know what was first to appear

My voice begins with tiny blows, as hidden hammers strike in rows.

I'm a banking application I'm a phone notification I'm a noisy decoration