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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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