The kings of the sands spat a curse upon this land
Divinity did revile their deeds
A pox of stone to all that denied the throne
The gods did call upon the priests to intercede

Met at the gates, they stood to actuate
And quell the chattel poised to rebel
Millions lament at the base of the monuments
Thus did the priests unleash the spell

As serpents feast on scavenging beasts
Awaken the divine constructs of the Architect!
Obsidian guardians bound by mystic rites
Waiting for the sovereigns to resurrect

Heed the call of the ancient lords
Scorched skeletons of the slaves
The scepter and the sword
Unworthy to the sons of the highborn graves;
The filth of the world will be purged by the Hierophant

The blood was strewn and coursed through the spiral runes
Insurgent survivors turned to stone
The king could not see – petrified by the victory
The dire portents still unknown

The Hierophant did warn of the ash and the coming storm
The doom that crept across the dunes
The wrath of the winds bound all in limestone skin
And buried Pharaoh and subjects in a peasant's tomb