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Random musings -
Find the hooves of their steeds, etched in stone; On the banks of the river, where my seven stars shone; The river, she still carries their blood, a red hue; Forget them not, cause they spilled it for you; A twister still rises, on the distant horizon; Whenever a drifter sings, the Ballad of the Seven.
With great apologies to वि.वा. शिरवाडकर