Semerkhet

An ache to live again, I could not feel

Black as charcoal is the closed eye of death

Consider what a stone must think about

Dreams had I none, nor memories or wishes

Even unconscious, we remain alive

For centuries, I was not I, but it

Gone were ambition and bitter regret

Humans, meddlesome fools, by magic dark

Incantations ancient and powerful

Jerked my soul from the sightless, soundless void

Knowing that I would be a sight ghastly

Longing to bring back an age long vanished

Mourning the days when Pharaohs ruled all things

Nostalgic for a hierarchy firm

O, had they only known how royal rage

Perfected by centuries of soft rest

Quickened, would like molten bronze boil and burn

Revenge against these necromancers first

So sweet to me were their shocked, sweating screams

Through their remains, I hunted for some sign

Unfamiliar, of where and when I am

Visions I saw on a small, glowing pane

With disgust did I scan their hair and clothes

Xenopus, tongueless frogs have better taste

Your age is decadent, faithless, obscene

Zealots will I gather, and then rule you