Night of the Witch
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And black dry tears rolled down from your empty orbits while you remember with sorrow your ancient splendour the colossal pomps of this withered remote times and you regret impotent your depressing existence. You oh Pharaoh, you oh so great and lofty King you without peace are now obliged to be derided exposed into a museum for the pleasure of masses of curious they don't understand the tragedy of your poor remains. To be a Black Mummy! And now you return to that fatal cursed day first you had power and shortly afterwards were dead! Bonded at those ragged bandages for an arcane doom you hear again the strange words of the Nile's Priest. That you consecrated immortal as your ancestral will with holy bandages, the oils and the unknown baptisms and at last this strange state that you've never forecast dead among the living and alive among the dead! To be a Black Mummy!
Submitted by Dahmers Fridge — Apr 18, 2026