Looking up, the metal monstrosity hovered over me,

The rocket flared, shooting the being high into the stratosphere,

Floating, zigging, zagging, and otherwise outflying the world below,

Gravity touched not its jagged wings,

The jarred hearts inside, caring not for the fear below,

Their mass hysteria a joke to them,

Few cares for a world outshined,

By a simple craft in the void.

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