I remember those golden afternoons
Resting at the river Nile.
I saw the pyramids, those majestic
Structures, as divine as Ra.
I had seen the Obelisks,
Monuments to gods who walked
Among men. Those kings of kings
Who protected their people.
I had walked in the valley of the kings
Where the pharaohs awaited the judgement
Of Ammut and prayed, heavy-hearted,
For the mercy of Osiris.
And when great pharaoh died,
The Nile bursts its banks
And shed its tears, and
No words would be spoken.
But the gods are dead now.
Ouroborous lies still in the sand,
The lineage has ended,
And the river sheds the tears of Denial.