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According to Ancient Egyptians,
they came from Puru.

Pur is the root word for Persia.

Ancient Egyptians,
Sumerians;
same.
I have no idea why the West refuses to listen to Hindoos on the matter of religion and it's origin.
With heartbreak and loss...
             does the Divine hear our thoughts?

Turning feathers, black and flickers,
spinning, spinning, spinning, spinning,

WHOOSH!

On hands, on knees,
wind, hair, cascade, face.
I cry out -hoary breath,
sobbing, tender, the freeze.

FUP-FUP-FUP

Painful sheering burning ice upon my forearms...
             to die is a warmth here.

Turning feathers, black and flickers,
spinning, spinning, spinning, spinning,

He lands and screeches,
talon'd feet below,
swaddling of wispy bandages
knees bent in reverse,
awkward pose o'er me
I look up and I see!

Turning feathers, black and flickers,
spinning, spinning, spinning, spinning,

Creature of arms species of wings, bandied, banded...
              almonded eyes so black, large, -peering.

FUP-FUP-FUP

It knows of pain.
To deliver me, -here.
...away from the world
I exist in short space,
I lean back my haunches,
expiate my yeornful heart!

Torn out but beating and in pain no more?
          I am leaving with this messenger...

Turning feathers, black and flickers,
spinning, spinning, spinning, spinning,

To the Van...
      to the van...

Turning feathers, black and flickers,
spinning, spinning, spinning, spinning.

...spinning, spinning, spinning, spinning.

...spinning, spinning, spinning, spinning.
A man built a
stone wall in
a place which
was not his to                              
reside. It was
torn down ‘til
he killed the
other person,

  Therefore a council, the ‘Council of the Commons,’ was called to order. It was from this foundation that early man found truth in matters through debate. It was a way of reckoning with problems and resolving disputes and contained three members; a king, a judge and their god -who came before the shrill cries and lamentations that day to hear the case of the stonemason. It was gathered at the temple of the god.

Lugal; “In what is good and what is just, I imagine a verdict that treats the people as wholesome; is just.”

Dekōōd; “For you believe, as all rulers do, that justice leaves are but for the few, the man who acts can never do, a thing unjust for his reward is due, but in this you err, unlike in battle, for people humanely; cannot be treated as cattle.”

Dinĝir; “And what of me? What my concern? What offering more, than blood-on-earth; in turn?”

Lugal; “We are not here in glory nor in battle but save for the prayers of these people; our chattel.”

Dekōōd; “I am not here for you, nor here for thus, nor daimones due, I am the judge, and adjudicate, I must! No matter solemn, or ill or gravely hearted, to sufferers who mourn, a dearly departed. If laws were broken, so have I been called, as one of three who judges, judges all, and so be it, until a time, that such a thing as rule, has ceased to rhyme, and man has ended, for all time!”

Dinĝir; “Very well, very well indeed, their incense is pleasing, their temple cleaned, their prayers heard, devices expected and meat and porridge and genuflective, these subjects are a thrill to me, go forward council, you two of three. I shall not make my move as much, until you humans, consider such, but once you pass a judgment on, this humble man of stone and brawn, just say the verdict and I will act, as Dekōōd has judged him, for his attack.”

Lugal; “Quiet now! Hush all, be quiet, lest I consider, your shrills, a riot, and put you down, for I decree, over all that you know, and all that you see, a final arbiter, of the law, I am your King; the king of all!”

Dekōōd; “And I your judge, your voice of reason, who discerns the meanings, the acts and treasons and takes the place of him that died and points thy finger and convicts those that lied!”

Dinĝir; “Mmmpfh, crunch, gargle, ummped, mmmpfh…pig! …and it’s roasted well…mmmpfh, smack.”

Dekōōd; “Come before me, bring that stonemason, and the family come forward, come quickly, quickly hasten, and the accusers tell, your tale of woe, and I’ll assign his character, if it is low.”


“I am wife, was wife to he, the man a farmer, and husband to me,
These here, his children, all eight of thee, and that land there, was given to us, you see,


By that great king, Oh Lugal, it is I, and he was a lieutenant, in the wars of honor, on your side,

Which beget you your kingdom, thus you granted these lands to him, whom did, his duty,

And that monster, the mason, his wall upon them doth rent away, -their beauty,

After our reproach, he did slay my hus-band, his blood now spilt, and washed upon, our land.”

Dekōōd; “Come before me now stonemason, show me your face, over there, yes, that’s your place, stand at that podium and tell us now, give us your case, but remember how well you plead, shall determine, your fates."

“I may have built my wall as such, plans offset by hills that roll but I did nothing wrong except to error,

I did not commit this claimed terror, her husband attacked me before we could reason and that was it.”

Dekōōd; “You call that eloquence? Well then, eye for an eye, tear this man apart, until he has died, and as he lie dying, Diĝir, it’s your turn, devour your portion, for the rest, we shall burn!”

Lugal; “For I am Basileos!”
Dekōōd; “For I am Basilicas!”
Dinĝir; “For I am Basiliskus!”

“The king, a judge, your god; the three,

…and this, as such, is our, decree!”
Sumerian; Lugal means King, Dekood means Judge, Digir means God.
King of Kings, I am to man!
Set apart, in stone; a gentry,

With a tomb that sits but nearly empty?

A grave with few artifacts to witness bear,
Inscription of him, who was the great king,

Who was once and future, a beginning to everything,

Whose great father descended into those lands…
Where epitaph graces a lonely stone,

And Ozymandias rests, at peace, alone.
Percy Shelley and Horace Smith both wrote poems about a statue found in Egypt that contained an epithet with the name Ozymandias. Each successive king was the reincarnation of the first king so every statue was in fact the first king of Egypt; Menes.

His tomb was found to be empty but had several artifacts including one written in Sumerian cuneiform. This is further proof that Sumerians started the Egyptian cities and the name, "Ozymandias," translates by root words into, "God's Magic Mind."

So back to the epithet, who can create like the king? No one for his works come from God's Magic Mind. This is my version in tribute to the first king of Egypt and the statue. It is my contention that Menes is Minos and Manis and Ninus and therefore he is the son of ******. The first as told in the Bible to invade Africa and conquer it.
You know Eight Owl City,
                                           -ain’t where I’m from?

You know the past isn’t pretty,
                                                -why are you dwelling there son?

You know every thought’s a lifetime,
                                                       ­    -of hands wringing, hands wrung?

Forget the past, see the future now,
                                                        -Dip­-dap-a-looma lung.

Dip-dap-a-looma lung,
A dip-dap-a-looma lung,
Dip-dap-a-looma lung,
A dip-dap-a-looma lung,

Storm on the horizon,
                                   -thunder in the air,

*****-O-lightning split the skies now,
                                                            ­ -ignore the clouds their always there…

You know Eight Owl City,
                                         -is just a place to hide your mind?

Life is hard, it ain’t pretty,
                                          -lost in a place out of time.

Get out your head or you’ll eat yourself,
                                                       ­          -consumed by paranoia, -rage!

Forget the past; see your future now,
                                                            ­-all you do in life is age.

Dip-dap-a-looma lung,
Hands wringing, hands wrung,
A dip-dap-a-looma lung,
Hear me now as it’s sung,
Dip-dap-a-looma lung,
A dip-dap-a-looma lung,

Dip-dap-a-looma lung,
A dip-dap-a-looma lung,
Dip-dap-a-looma lung,
A dip-dap-a-looma lung,
"Eight Owl City," was the original Sumerian name for Heliopolis in Egypt.
At school I had trouble socializing,
And still, The Owl, comes all too late?

My formative years are spent deep within caves searching,
Yet The Owl is never found there?

The failures and sadness accumulate over time,
Leaving The Owl traversing some other’s sky,

I feel life slipping away each day,
And still The Owl never manifests!

Where is The Owl? Does it not come with time?
Will cleverness induce her, perhaps woo her with rhyme?

Quell restless mind, The Owl reforge me so I’m freed!
Grant me your talons so that I may succeed!

And still, The Owl, who never manifests,
And still The Owl never manifests.

I curl chalky fingers into travertine-grip,
Aged ruin takes a hold, in my despair as I slip,

Sans which The Owl never did manifest,
To wit, sans The Owl, pounding sand as I jest,

So what, The Owl, never did manifest?
And still The Owl never manifests.

Life without The Owl, was no life at all,
No solemnity of greatness, a life of doltish pit-fall.

And still The Owl never manifests.
And still The Owl never manifests.
Most people believe they have a guardian angel looking over them and intervening to make their lives better; more fulfilling. Angels in ancient art were represented as owls(watchers) for the god(s) would inhabit animals to monitor humans.

— The End —