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Egypts Pyramids
Pyramids of Giza
Sand, strain
sweat and pain,
worker’s place blocks
where forever they stay.
Sun falls as the moon ascends.
Eight more hours till the next day begins.
The king
has died and his
tomb is still incomplete.
Was this all for nothing?
Was it just a meaningless feet?
But the
workers still strain,
as they need to make way,
for the body of their king that still awaits
for his day, to leave his old world and fly to the sky,
or their he knows, he will still be king even after he died.
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