A Token Of Love Riddle
A thousand colored folds stretch toward the sky,
Atop a tender strand,
Rising from the land,
'Til killed by maiden's hand,
Perhaps a token of love, perhaps to say goodbye.
What am I?
Atop a tender strand,
Rising from the land,
'Til killed by maiden's hand,
Perhaps a token of love, perhaps to say goodbye.
What am I?
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