I spin and churn, a watery grave, Where ships may falter, and sailors rave. A vortex of power, I draw all near, What am I, that inspires such fear?

I am a deep water carved by ice, You might like my inhabitants with your sour rice. What am I?

People in ice houses shouldn’t throw snowballs

I hold the world's greatest tales, yet have no voice, My depths conceal treasures, a boundless, watery choice.

I hold the stars yet weigh no thing, no walls, no floor, no edge, no ring. I stretch beyond what minds can trace, a silent, endless, darkened place. No air to breathe, no sound to hear, yet all you know is resting here. I cradle worlds that drift and race, a boundless void none can embrace