The hills they call,
for the footsteps of the land,
to once again, once again,
walk them in unison.
The trees,
they sway, in the breeze,
dropping, dropping their leaves,
crying for a return,
that may never be.
The earth was turned by loving hands,
that are no longer there to caress...
The land, the land, shall never forget,
those once, trodden,
footsteps...
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