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© Krishna Mehta 2021
Made with by Last Local
knights of the castle watching the pink sea, heard stories of yellow stains that could not flee.
they were flowers from spring, sprayed with a yellow crown,with a sailor so brave, the ship could never drown.
he who weaved the magial tide, hidden, he lit the coloured beacons to guide.
furled to unfurl far from sight, it cut through the bleeding sky at night.