As many as 17 pyramids, more than 1,000 tombs and 3,000 settlements were uncovered using infrared technology. Archaeologists have uncovered as many as 17 buried pyramids in Egypt with the help of NASA satellite imagery, according to a documentary to be aired by the BBC on Monday.
The sand is old. The crypts number one thousand. The imagery is new. Scores of pyramid and settlement covered by shameless flood or time’s scratching wind. They reappeared the same way they vanished, devotion.
Technology’s come a long way, but what of me? Have I grown, or shrank of my plan like a coward? From beneath the ascending stone I have risen, yet not high enough for dreaming of time without end. Clocks tick like time bombs above the granite vaults that are used to conceal such shame, my love’s dullness. Nature will lay to rest all the eyesores built upon the (H)eartH with the same swiftness as my flight from peace. Nature will find me begging on my human knees like the first and last hostage of a dreadful deceit locked tightly within the chambers of mortal kings. There is no escape. No relinquishing the eartH's lessons.
The sand is old. The crypts number one thousand. The imagery is new. Life returns with Love’s release, as death, resurrected, is flanked by the dancing spirit. It is I who held death sacred over Love and Peace.
The sand is old. The crypts number one thousand. The imagery is new. Scores of pyramid and settlement covered by shameless flood or time’s scratching wind. They reappeared the same way they vanished, devotion.
Technology’s come a long way, but what of me? Have I grown, or shrank of my plan like a coward? From beneath the ascending stone I have risen, yet not high enough for dreaming of time without end. Clocks tick like time bombs above the granite vaults that are used to conceal such shame, my love’s dullness. Nature will lay to rest all the eyesores built upon the (H)eartH with the same swiftness as my flight from peace. Nature will find me begging on my human knees like the first and last hostage of a dreadful deceit locked tightly within the chambers of mortal kings. There is no escape. No relinquishing the eartH's lessons.
The sand is old. The crypts number one thousand. The imagery is new. Life returns with Love’s release, as death, resurrected, is flanked by the dancing spirit. It is I who held death sacred over Love and Peace.
© 2011 by mark prime
...a remarkable gift with words is what you possess! Thank you for these words and the ancient imagery they bring to my mind...
ReplyDeletedtjamja, thank you for the kind words...
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