Hemmed in by measureless cold expanse,
rimming a circular plane, pole to pole,
Flat Earther-theorists Online now advance
a flat disk that has some climate control,
hovering above boundless depths below,
for which the fallen lack any control,
highlighting the first of all Freudian fears,
the fear of falling all felt their first year,
while a miniature sun and moon float
above land encased by an icy moat,
and stars twinkle like in a kid’s drawing–
a nightmarish scene that’s quite annoying.
There’s no base that the earth now sits upon,
and humankind is stuck here, quite alone.
I wasn’t able to do this prompt and picked a random one for this hour but you found a way in and in rhyme!!! I love this: ‘Flat Earther-theorists Online now…’