That W(i/ea)thering Wreath On Tutan’s Tomb

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

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