Tour to Tomb

The vastness of my epic continues,
They discovered my hastily-prepared tomb,
Dead and buried in the desires,
Of my immortality,
In the valley of kings,

Termed as spectacular discovery,
The sheer size of immense wealth uncovered,
The beautiful artifacts depicting,
The love and affection of,
The ill-fated young royal couple.

All I needed to rest in peace,
Was a funeral mask, a gilded wood,
Figure of the goddess Selket, lamps,
Jars, jewelry, furniture, and other objects for the afterlife,
But they left me with the none.

Placed flowers on the golden mask of the mummy,
One mitigated with amounts of joyful anxiety and trepidation,
The me, the unknown and lost pharaoh,
Faded from public consciousness,
Still my tomb was robbed at least twice,
Within few months of my burial.

My existence has a resonance with the myths,
And my struggle coincides with the pantheon of god,
Deep echoes of the past of my world,
And the dead whispers,
Of a apocalyptic past and dead future.

The pharaoh who in life was,
One of the least esteemed,
Of Egypt's kings has become,
In death the most renowned.

That’s the prevailing irony,
Reflecting the savage ways of living,
In the harsh land and their violent rituals,
And a chaotic transition,
Through the eyes of breathing.

I rejoice at the,
The grandeur of my murderous plot,
And the thousand knives connived,
As young pharaoh was murdered,
By the persons unheralded for,
Included his wife and beloved ones.

Cluttered shelves of the Epic Fantasy genre,
And as the sign that I am truly free,
I shall be naked in your rites,
This shall last until,
The last of my oppressors shall be dead,
But let me announce my prophecy,
I shall have my revenge,
As I was killed at the age of nineteen.