Couchant in repose, surveying all who come through time to call Guardian of the pharaoh’s tomb, this 'Giza' with the lions paws Khafre’s countenance looks out, unseeing with all knowing sight On those who seek the wisdom of the ancients journey to the stars
Desert ships sail by on seas of sand, in caravans of mirage state Never ending onward trek, unsure from even whence they came Secrets not forthcoming ‘Neath the polyhedron house of stone In chambers deep within they sleep, cocooned in treasured fate
Blasted by the wind borne grains, my edge of fear has worn away With muted roar and sense of smell no longer evident to some I face uncertain future with no hieroglyphs to call my own No ancient message to impart, no key within Rosetta Stone
Richard
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