Answer:
I am the outstretched fingers that seize and hold the wind. Wisdom flows from me in other hands. Upon me are sweet dreams dreamt, my merest touch brings laughter.
With pointed fangs it sits in wait. With piercing force it doles out fate, over bloodless victims proclaiming its might. Eternally joining in a single bite.
I drive men mad for love of me. Easily beaten, never free.
What has wings, but can not fly. Is enclosed, but can outside also lie. Can open itself up, or close itself away. Is the place of kings and queens and doggerel of every means. What is it upon which I stand? Which can lead us to different lands.
A mile from end to end, yet as close to as a friend. A precious commodity, freely given. Seen on the dead and on the living. Found on the rich, poor, short and tall, but shared among children most of all.
What is so fragile that saying its name breaks it?