The Mummy Poem

More about The Mummy Poem

In the tomb, a pharaoh rests so still,
Wrapped in cloth from head to heel.
Cursed to slumber for eternal days,
Guarded by ancient, mystic ways.
But one dark eve, a foolish thief,
Disturbed the mummy's silent grief.
He pried open the sarcophagus lid,
Awakening the pharaoh amid.
With eyes that gleamed with vengeful fire,
The mummy rose, his wrath inspired.
Unleashing curses, spells and hex,
Seeking revenge, he flexed his wrecks.
Through the corridors, he stalked with might,
A cursed being in the dead of night.
His bandaged form, a fearsome sight,
A haunting figure in the moon's pale light.
The thief ran fast, but could not flee,
From the wrath of the pharaoh's decree.
For the mummy's power was too great,
A force of ancient, relentless hate.
In the end, the thief met his fate,
A warning to those who tempt such fate.
Beware the mummy's ancient wrath,
For disturbing his slumber is a treacherous path.
Now, the mummy rests once more,
Guarded by curses, ancient lore.
A legend whispered through the sands,
Of a cursed pharaoh, in timeless lands.