The Real Architects

The sweat beads run off the solid form
With one thing in mind - a huge feat to perform
To cut into stone, turn it into a block
And this will be used as the Pyramid rock

Precision at work, 20 000 a time
As they strain with the ropes - up the steep slope they climb
Muscles tense up and burn, insides screaming in pain
As all 20 000 pull again and again

And then the rope snaps - the block plummets on down
Crushing and maiming, some in sand rock will drown
Limbs torn from the bodies, others rush to their aid
Pulling lifeless comrades into small areas of shade

As the evening rolls in, weary, sapped of all life
They sit lifeless on clay beds, holding only a knife
Cutting strips of raw fish, eating red meat and fruit
As they watch their new comrades undergo their recruit

And then before sunrise 20 000 tired men
Begin the hard task of block pulling again
Same daily tragedies, same things theywould share
If only they knew 20 years they'd be there

And all of this hardship for what you may ask
For a burial house for a royal to bask
Such architectural splendour, still unexplained
To ensure that a Pharoah's soul after-life gained

Such contradiction in the build and the death
The gold laden tomb as he took his last breath
Yet the blood, sweat and tears, shed by loyal strong men
Is still overlooked, again and again

Without all the energy and work put in place
The Pharoah would not have this tomb to embrace
He would not gain entry into his new life
He would have been doomed to a lifestyle of strife

So let us commend those who managed this feat
The builders of pyramids, wonderous, perfect and neat
They've lasted through eons, mysterious display
Still unanswered questions - a mystery today