Their treasuries cry for nourishment, their swords are rusted and cracked, their minds heavy with wealth, their forms fat and bloated, scourged of any god-given purity. But the time of our enemies is running thin. Such power is not fit for mere humans, not even the purest Egyptian soul, only does it suit the illustrious Pharaoh, or the gods- they weep as they see our lands desecrated, the sands hiding the skeletons of our mortal armies, the Nile running red with its people's blood.
Their minds grow turgid with wealth and power over fellow man, they, like the all-powerful Ptah, speak and their wish is commanded! The Makedonians liberated us, but they too became the beasts that lie within every man's heart. Our ancestors heightened our blood tides through their own slaughter and enslavement, at the hands of the barbarous Hittites, Sea Peoples, and Persians. We have survived through the worst of times, Pharaoh. Hail, all-powerful Pharaoh, son of Amun-Ra, the all-knowing all-king! We are your people, illustrious Pharaoh, born from the floods of the Nile, from Sobek's glorious will, nourished by Ra's golden orb, and taught to be pure Egyptian by the all-knowing Thoth.
0 kommentar(er)
