Pyramid

The day wanes away,

On the horizon where twilight meets the clouds,

In the hushed silence of dusk,

The death knell tolls for yet another day,

And the funeral pyre of centuries burns with ash.

Travelers, weary and dim, sink one by one—

Nations, families, societies—all consumed by the cremation ground.

For whom, O tomb, do you sit alone today?

Like some restless ghostly apparition!

Where has the grand procession of the past vanished?

When did it fade without leaving a trace?

On what evening did the millions of pilgrims of glory

Extinguish their lamps and depart—leaving behind temples,

Leaving behind beloved companions, leaving behind lovers?

At the end of an era, they abandoned their jeweled mansions,

Departing swiftly like wandering desires.

Alas, on what distant shore did they vanish?

They did not offer you their final farewell or tribute;

Nor did the azure sea of twilight whisper their parting words into your soul.

No flood of mourners came to your gates

With tearful eyes and pale faces.

They drew the black curtain and left through distant doors and windows—

You knew nothing of it;

Nor does Egypt’s mute desert know their whereabouts.

O silent Pyramid, still heart of the departed past,

Unshaken temple of memory,

You sit steadfast, gazing at the sky.

With unwavering brows raised high,

You stare toward the shores of unborn oceans,

Toward blood-red rays of sunset.

Every dawn ignites anew,

And Memnon’s voice resounds

With the rising sun—

Driven perhaps by fleeting hopes and longings!

Around the core of the pyramid’s stone,

A fountain of two-hours’ worth of blood dances wildly—

What audacious joy echoes here!

But the traveler’s lute falls silent in an instant;

The hearts of century-old exiles grow numb and motionless,

Drifting back to die upon the crimson-yellow sky-sea.

Over the swollen sands,

By the trembling mirage’s door,

Egypt’s stolen heart begs silently for alms.

When will the sealed doors of illusion open?

When will life awaken again, vibrant and harmonious?

When will the tranquil blue dawn ring out without discord?

The night of separation keeps vigil—

Thus sits the Pyramid, alas, waiting.

How many guests of time, civilizations uninvited,

Have come to your doorstep, speaking of broken hearts,

Raising tumultuous cries,

While you remain silent, detached, unmoving—

Lost in thought, indifferent.

Sitting alone on your beloved’s breast,

You perform the rites of the dead—

O lover, sovereign in solitude.

When will the dormant festival awaken from its slumber?

When will your beloved lift smiling eyes

To kiss your sweat-streaked, pallid cheeks?

When will the lamp of dignity burn bright once more

In Egypt’s courtyards?

For now, you sit tearless, pulseless, awaiting—

Guarding the ashes of countless ages,

Your spectral gaze keeping watch over love's vigil.

When autumn arrives in our lives,

And winter whispers its farewells,

We open our eyes wide

And build memorials of remembrance,

If only for a fleeting moment.

The songs of blooming madhavi flowers

Distract us under strange skies,

In the blink of an eye.

Beside the icy graves of the past,

We forget even to shed two drops of tears.

O eternal Pyramid, sentinel of time,

What secrets lie buried beneath your weighty stones?

Do you guard treasures of gold, or truths far greater—

Whispers of humanity’s rise and fall,

Of empires built on dreams and dust?

Each layer of your being tells a story,

Etched not in ink but in the language of eternity.

As I stand before you, dwarfed by your majesty,

I feel the pull of eons past.

Your shadow stretches long across the desert,

A bridge between worlds—the living and the dead,

The known and the unknowable.

You are both monument and mystery,

A riddle wrapped in silence.

Yet beyond your towering form,

Beyond the sands that shift and swirl,

Lies a world untouched by your gaze.

Modern cities rise where once stood emptiness,

Skyscrapers pierce the heavens as you pierce history.

Men and women rush about, chasing ambitions,

Building new pyramids of progress and power.

But are these creations any less ephemeral than yours?

Will they too crumble into dust,

Forgotten by those who follow?

Perhaps the true pyramid is not made of stone,

But of moments—

Fleeting, fragile, yet infinite in their potential.

Each heartbeat, each breath,

Is a brick laid upon the edifice of existence.

And just as your structure withstands the test of time,

So too must we strive to endure,

Not through conquest or dominion,

But through compassion, creativity, and connection.

Imagine, then, a future where humanity learns

To honor the lessons of the past.

Where pyramids are no longer tombs for kings,

But symbols of unity and shared purpose.

Where deserts bloom with life,

And rivers run clean and free.

Where the fires of hatred and greed are extinguished,

Replaced by the warmth of understanding and empathy.

This vision may seem distant, even impossible,

But every journey begins with a single step.

Let us take inspiration from your steadfastness, O Pyramid,

And commit ourselves to building a better tomorrow.

Let us carve not hieroglyphs of division,

But inscriptions of hope and harmony.

Let us be architects of peace,

Designers of destiny.

And when the sun sets on this age,

As it inevitably must,

May those who come after us look back

Not with sorrow, but with gratitude.

May they see in our efforts

The seeds of renewal,

Planted amidst the ruins of despair.

Until that day arrives,

We shall keep watch alongside you,

Guardians of memory, bearers of light.

Though the winds of change may howl,

And the sands of time may bury all,

Our spirits will endure,

Bound together by the invisible threads of existence.

So let the stars shine down upon us,

Guiding us through the darkness.

Let the Nile flow ever onward,

Carrying with it the promise of rebirth.

And let the Pyramid stand tall,

A testament to resilience,

A beacon of possibility.

For though the night may stretch endlessly,

Dawn will surely break.

And when it does,

We shall greet it with open arms,

Ready to write the next chapter

In the eternal saga of life.