Curse of the Mummy - Poem
Night of the feverish sorts,
Epic horrors of the night.
A queen in deep slumber,
Disturbed by the noises in the night.
A vein popped blood,
Onto the rails lighting the floor.
With a creak,
The Stone staircase split open.
The prince of tides,
Crawled away.
The queen though relentless,
Was lying in wait for these years.
A voyage deep into the deserts,
Turned indeed harmful.
A state of menace spread it's talon's,
On the dim creatures of the night.
Then she rose,
Rising from the tomb.
Roaring like a leopard,
She set out to the dwellings.