Most like as common as the grass around, the deep color, deep as the ocean. But it is the ocean, the ocean and the sky above, reflected between them and back. The flowers painted; bells on the Earth, painted by drops of the sky that have fallen through the times of our world. The molds and fungus caused by the same drops, moisture from the sky. The sad ones, those people that notice those bells and the color within, the people that write those sad songs of times once past. The words and tone, rising through the sky, melting into themselves...
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Penana
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