I tend to be paired, but can work as one. Even alone, I'd block out the sun. So unremarkable that you could yawn. I'm beautiful still, and frequently drawn. I'm bound to my home, but shiver and flow. My greatest connection is to the wind, oh!

In the forest of keys where letters take flight, Beneath nimble fingers, ink dances in light. Hear the clattering rain, a rhythm so spry, On parchment it weaves tales as time passes by.

Conception, I deny. I'm born from wounded trees that cry. Entropy’s child, shaped by fire. I twist and yield, yet never die.

My first three letters are an average score My last four are a weaving reed Remove my fourth for brief truce in war But altogether, a garnish green, herbaceous, bright, and a bit earthy

I am two words. I can only be lost, never won. Think of me and you'll lose. If you tell someone about me, they'll always play me. What am I?