Thousands of years ago, when I was never on existence's mind,
Ancient Egyptians looked down upon the world,
Up upon the pyramids with only their glory in sight,
History racing to match their eminence word by word.
When angels of death knocked with finality on their doors,
They held their crowns intact, postures of gold never wavering,
To them, they were ascended to the divine floor,
With every last glass of wine they ever graced with their catering.
Magnificent cloaks on beds of eternal slumber,
Decaying hands mingling with decades of royalty's worth,
Thrones caged in tombs adorned with ruby and amber,
They carried their glorious empires even to death.
And if I were to be a Cleopatra, a Nefertiti, or a Hatshepsut,
I'd demand to carve every word I'd ever written, on the walls of my afterlife,
For finery and jewelry proved to be only fool's gold,
But what once lied in my - now lifeless -skull shall keep me alive.
