The sand of old Aegypt smells of spice and gold.
Above, the stars dance the same dance with the moon.
I see a river of people, a city's flood, refugees.
Camels, oxen, tuskers, horses and many others.
Each burdened with all they can carry,
Carving a new path through dust and rock.
To Thebes! To the Old Gods! They shout.
The Pharaoh is dead, long live the Pharaoh!
With blade, and star, and child they came.
To the house of Aten they brought death,
The judgement of the glorious hand of Horus.
Great AmonRa and dark Shemzu concurred.
The Heretic-King flayed bare with wrath.
But the deluge grasped me like the jaws of Set
And carried me further to the Great City.
Scarabs and locusts made of brass,
Each with insides of spinning brass gears,
The Swarm of Ra, shepherding the throng.
To dust, his soul is devoured by brass claws.
The Heretic's name and spirit obliterated.
Let them hear the names Ta brought here.
Favoured of Ra, Jesyble lost to flame.
Mosa-nalendi, the graceful star,
Banished, cursed, damned, Ickthuas.
Bezis, the lost swan of the Nile,
Grog'Nak D'More Goliathi Kai'Kee.
And Mateuw from the shore of Quiddity.
To Thebes! To the Old Gods! We shout.
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