A celestial being from which I birth Of great distance from planet Earth Gas and debris from what I’m made A great eye, a horse, a crab I display

Some say I hold things steady Or I'm lightning from the blue I'm also fabric, rolled and ready And I'll dash away from you

Born in fire from powdered stones, A fragile sheet from Gaia's bones. Smooth of surface, rather hard - will cut deep with a broken shard. This stuff sounds difficult to view: you don't look at it, you look through.

I am born of mountains, yet I am no stone. Too many to number, yet each of me is nearly none. I shift without breath, travel without legs, and though I lie silent, I can drown an entire city. What am I?

I am one part of a massive army, Though to some viewers, they can see only me