What lasts, beyond, ends of legends
Is not glory, lost to, time’s dust
But toil, of passion, that transcends
Maze of mystery, in, history’s rust!
Who was, no more than, a tale, on stone
Was found, at last, in The Valley, Of Kings
In the, finest fineries, we’ve ever known
A man mangled, in his, lost mortal things!
Whilst, old in gold, was worth, all the awe
World missed, a psalm, of love, in shroud
A widow, had strung, with narcissus, and straw
For a narcissist, who lived, ever so loud!
From “Aten”, to “Amun”, the greatest pharaoh
Still yearns, for redemption, from his, worldly womb
What outlasts, time’s rites, is his, widow’s love vow /
Immortal though, is his, widow’s love vow
That W(i/ea)thering, Wreath, On Tutan’s Tomb!
© 2021 Vikas Chandra