Oft I must strive with wind and wave, Battle them both when under the sea
I feel out the bottom, a foreign land. In lying still I am strong in the strife;
If I fail in that they are stronger than I, And wrenching me loose, soon put me to rout.
They wish to capture what I must keep. I can master them both if my grip holds out,
If the rocks bring succor and lend support, Strength in the struggle. Ask me my name!

I lived in a city that held as much as it could,
So I moved to another that repaid what it should.
The third had very little, with not much to be found,
The fourth was very boring, with no change in the sound.
The fifth was a jungle; wild beasts roamed the in street,
The sixth was so foggy you could not see past your feet.
The seventh was on the move; I could barely keep the pace,
The eighth was so evil; a whole city in disgrace.
The ninth was off-center; the people were bizarre,
The tenth was quite truthful; where honesty is par.
The eleventh was so wise; the acumen hurt my brain,
So I settled in a twelfth, because it was so plain.

When you call my name, I will be gone.

What is my name?