Proud,
I stare out at these moons,
Orbiting me, curiosity my
Gravitational pull.
I am Ra the Sun,
Agleam in priceless gold leaf,
Layers of slaughtered trees
Nestled like matryoshka dolls.
Scarabs and cryptic hieroglyphics
Ignite my painted arms,
Sapphires adorn my funeral mask.
I am not a reincarnated horror movie -
In my gruesome regal present,
You pass by, imagining
Just how powerful I was,
How battles I won, how many
Slaves bowed to my whims.
It is beyond your mortal estimation
For I transcend man.
My organs eerily preserved in
Dislocated canopic jars,
Crocodiles, falcons, cats,
Undying -
I am immortal, staring forever
From these bandages,
Sunken eyes eternally ancient,
Mysterious, enigmatic,
Proud. I am
the Son of Horus.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
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One Art, to recognize, must be,
Another Art to Praise.
- Emily Dickinson