Searing 'cross the pitch-black skies,
I scream in celebration,
Yet moments later, my outburst through,
I am naught but imagination.
All about, but cannot be seen,
Can be captured, cannot be held,
No throat, but can be heard.
Who am I?
What is long and filled with seamen?See answer
Select a pack of riddles and try to solve it in an interesting way.
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