Squalls on Distant Seas
You spin against opaque and barren skies, An ancient god now floating in the deep; Your secrets hidden from our prying eyes, An azure giant
"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
You spin against opaque and barren skies, An ancient god now floating in the deep; Your secrets hidden from our prying eyes, An azure giant
Fast radio bursts come from outer space, We measure them and try to plot their trace; First thought to be some cataclysmic scar, Lost echoes