The Disturbing Disturbed

Can you hear their voices


Of ancient Kmt,

Their eyeless gaze haunting you

While wandering between their

Glass cubicles

Should they not be airtight?

And yet you may be able to

Smell them,

A smell of millennia,

Disturbing and disturbed

They have been taken out of their tombs

Carried across the waters

Just to be locked up in

Glass boxes

Having to endure your stare

And returning it

And feeling misunderstood

Thousands of years have passed

A thousand faces being

Shoved along

Your resting place each day now

And no one ever wondered

If your Ba is able to

Pass through that security glass...


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