Grave Robbers
Grave robbers all
who stole the chest which held the vest of gold;
old Pharaoh's soon stripped cold.
To lay instead a jeweled cask,
encased in glass, so those who wish to stare his face
may face him as they pass.
He's fast forgot: their brief encounters race
to other tourist traps.
He'll stay, more firmly cased by teaming life
than death could 'balm these straps.
Woke from the silence, bared to light
this swaddled seer of the night.
Wound tight in bands stained by the blight
of age - poor sage: you rage, set there on stage
the mime of countless like.
A man who awed is coldly stored
a course that curse its plight.
The passers peer, dismiss and little fear
the anguish of their slight.