Sitting on top of Karnack’s holy stone
Vibrating earth tells you, ’There you belong,
Four thousand years’ marvel mostly intact,
An accumulation of history, mystery and luck
That makes you wonder and makes you crack,
Papyrus columns flowering into heavenly sky,
All those majestic, earthly and heavenly kings,
Who built wondrous temples, worshipped sun and sky
People worshipped them as the mighty gods-
Yet they came to nothing.
But my immortal and fearless imagination,
While wondering, wandering in this ancient land,
As I am only an immortal human being,
Still admires mortal, ancient Egyptian kings.
In the jungle of temple’s columns, next to the timeless Nile,
The kings’ grand efforts may not be futile.
Some of the carved human faces still bear smiles,
But some deep cracks in those decorated stones
Reflect the Pharaohs’ mummified bones.
Lived, loved, worshipped but are forever gone.
The sense of existence and the end gets into your bones.