This is another poem I wrote in the course of my recent travels. The huge time, energy and wealth that was poured into creating tombs guaranteed to assist Pharaohs journey to an after-life – all for nothing. They bankrupted the nation in order to gain eternal life. Yet their beliefs are now discarded.
Yet we don’t seem able to equate what happens with past beliefs to those of our present beliefs which will all go the same way.
Valley of the Kings
Soaring on wings over the Valley of the Kings;
The multitude of tombs of the afterlife’s wombs,
All the blood, sweat and tears, evaporated down the years,
Leaving us with the splendour their toil did render,
Amid the ruins of a philosophy passed through time to you and me
Tourists from way over yonder, to stand, wonder and ponder.
For this work of many a king carries a powerful sting.
If only we could learn from our mistakes? What a world we would inhabit. The world is littered with past civilisations teeming with deceased gods, defunct philosophies, and moribund visions of the afterlife and creation myths and histories of warfare, slavery and racism.
Yet we never seem to relate these lessons of the past to the realities of the present.
Our present countries, gods and kings remain worth dying for. We continue to put our energies into faith.
To suggest that present beliefs, gods and countries will not exist for ever is sacrilege.
I am a blasphemous, cynical fool. I don’t put my faith in any of it.