Set atop a gossameric membrane —
A garrison against the abyssal dark of a great sea,
Stellar in its expanse —
They tell you,
Saturn would float.
A colossal giant,
Weighing light against the deep,
Bobbing along like a hollow gale,
A breath —
Severed from the winds.
Guards march the orbit of its gravity’s reach.
Armigerous rings of granular, boulder-hewn and mountainous sculptures of ice,
Holding in tight formation around a body that cannot be touched.
A seemingly formidable celestial being —
A structured vacuum.
A disjointed exile —
A queen of the masquerade.
Beyond the rings,
Beneath a shroud of volatile clime,
Is a barren world.
Thousands of miles of a tempestuous void,
A gaseous slurry of supercritical fluid and imprisoned atoms,
With not even an inch of solid ground,
To stand up,
Against external forces.