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Invading The Hills

The hill men shied from us,
As natives they worked far too hard,
Lax and unbearable, solid and concrete,
The hills and mountains were their home.
And their entrance was an exit,
And the huts made passes at us.

Only one on the sloping ground caressed
The joyous images of my own,
The hills were sounding like war and carnage,
A shrine had collapsed from the head,
The chiefs swore their allegiance to us afterwards.

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