The tomb has long since been plundered,
only dusty cavities now
where gold and jewels once adorned
the statues of discarded gods.
Crunching beneath your boots
as you slowly, cautiously trod the cool stone floor,
the ground littered with shards of clay jars.
Although the sarcophagus is empty,
the wrapped body having been stolen and sold,
you are not alone here.
On every wall, you are surrounded
by pharaohs and servants,
farmers, sailors, hunters, merchants,
scarabs, ibises and falcons,
the piercing eye of Horus,
Anubis with his black jackal head,
busy with his mortician’s work.
Not far behind you,
something that has been sleeping
for thousands of years
suddenly opens and then narrows its eyes.
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