The Scribes Stone

Carved and hued In solid bed rock are locked the voices Echoes of the ancient past, blood shavings of symbolic Expressions, that whispers ever so softly within the desert Winds, beneath our cryptic dons lay the tombs of pharaoh’s Kings and Queens. Living stone bleed’s sacred blood from the hardened heart, Of nature’s rocky ridged souls quarry, dragging it’s marble Spinel column then shoving it upwards to heaven’s might And glory, behold the shimmering monolith displacing The height of Egyptian power, etched in rock forever. Creeping shadows of the fallen guardian’s watch towers, Statues frozen faces transfixed, with fierceness’s veracity, Lay in wait to strike, at any outlander whom may trade Within this sacred valley of the dead. Whisper do the walls in forgotten tongues lost languages, Hammered by the scribes of the dust, cures ruins of long ago, Foretelling the death to grave robbers whom defile these Treasured tombs of the Pharaohs. Idle worshipers altars flames remain extinguished, Yet the firer of the Egyptian people still burns with prides Honor, blazing within the stars of the heavens, igniting The spark of legacies divinities to smile down upon them, From a far. In historical ruins stone of red brick the falcons soars On wards into the everlasting sun, it’s feathers never Waver and its eyes of emerald brilliance shine, as it’s Break bites at the evenings stars tail, screaming the Names of the Pharaoh’s evermore. Carved and hued In solid bed rock are locked the voices Echoes of the ancient past, blood shavings of symbolic Expressions, that whispers ever so softly within the desert Winds, beneath our cryptic dons lay the tombs of pharaoh’s Kings and Queens. BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN