It starts at the earth's end and brink,
Filled with water you can't drink.
Has a color, just like ink,
Walk into it and you'll sink.
They belong to me; they belong to you;
They can make you feel happy or make you feel blue;
They never end until the day you do.
Everyone loses us as a child, and neglecting us makes us holy. What are we?See answer
Select a pack of riddles and try to solve it in an interesting way.
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