|“Menphis – Egypte – 500before JC – Troop of funerary servant figures shabtis in the name of Neferibreheb” by Serge Ottaviani –
Own work. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons
Act I must, at his bidding.”
The Shabti had such inscriptions carved in its stone
They all plead allegiance to the Pharaoh alone.
The Pharaoh was still King, though he was dead,
The Shabti were to toil in his stead.
There were other interesting finds in the tomb,
Riches, artwork, scriptures of destruction and doom.
All was kept in the display as was instructed,
All in all, the Pharaoh had been abducted.
The curator smiled like a Cheshire Cat,
With a final look, he removed his hat.
He secured the doors and locked the display tight,
He intended to stay at the museum that night.
He lit up the fireplace and lounged in his chair,
It was all worth it, the price had been fair.
The tiring expedition in the sand dunes,
The scorching, long and dry afternoons,
The many bribes that had to be paid
To get the permit, officials he had to serenade.
The museum would soon be back on its feet,
His business would soon be complete.
He called his wife and checked on his boys,
He hung up soon and was rattled by a noise.
He turned his attention to a packed, wooden box,
Hesitant at first, he finally undid the locks.
He opened the huge box and peered inside,
“Misha, nowhere else could you hide?”,
He cradled his cat and petted its head,
“You know better than to disturb the dead.”
He examined the Sarcophagus hidden in the sand,
“Tomorrow, the Pharaoh travels far, as I had planned.”
The cat kept busy while the curator soon slept
Unaware that a gust of sand there swept.
He opened his eyes when the sand was hurled at him,
He woke up to find the room dark and grim.
He struggled to find his footing in the dark,
He slipped but finally he lit a spark.
The fireplace lit up with greater force,
He shook his head, his throat felt hoarse.
As he turned, he gasped, he was taken aback,
He was surrounded, they were all ready to attack.
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