Sun, Wind and Sand days on end slowly uncover the Pyramids
once, like cristals, formed by the very shape of the cosmos itself,
and then after made to encase our dead kings.
Like the sand wind and sun that gradually scratch at the soil,
our memories of them and the kings become lost to mankind,
the writing of scribes do not suffice. What was once common knowledge – ye daily affairs –
had become lost. Man, in an effort to uncover their roots only see man’s
own achievements — the hieroglyphs and graves, in so doing
he has become lowly enough to even think that he himself (or else some
otherworldly ‘human-oid’ ) could have built them.
Knowledge deserts us like the sand through our fingers.
The cristals and pyramids which the kings and queens once served and revered,
reveal themselves through the Sun, and wind and gold
transmit their story, beyond words or hieroglyphs, to us.
We cry and the rain falls.
Those grave robbers who raped our ancestors were gravely mistaken
and have eaten away their future in the afterlife.
Even the tallest building collapsed in less than 30 years,
and that by the very own hands that built it.