The Scribes Stone

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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

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