Hills of Old

Through seas of green
and fields of trees
lined by the rays of gold

The secrets whispered in the breeze
remind of times of old

When pagan man
onced tamed the land
and brought with him the seeds

with his own hands
he laid his plans
to better suit his needs

And all was fine
until the mines
became all of the rage

Forever changed
the land remains
from the Industrial age

The paved the trails
and laid the rails
by blasting through the rock

And from the waste
left from their haste
the land went into shock

In spite of such
there's parts untouched
where ways of old survive

Still years behind
the flow of time
the mountain people thrive

Their time well spent
their lives, content
to spend amongst their own

There born and raised
pass down their ways
And call the mountains home