Answer:
I'm not really more than holes tied to more holes. I'm strong as good steel, though not as stiff as a pole.
Late afternoons I often bathe. I'll soak in water piping hot. My essence goes through. My see through clothes. Used up am I - I've gone to pot.
What makes a loud noise when changing its jacket, becomes larger but weighs less?
I fly through the air on small feathered wings, seeking out life and destroying all things.
So cold, damp and dark this place. To stay you would refrain, yet those who occupy this place do never complain.
What covers its face with its hands, speaks no language, yet most known what it's saying?