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Tut's Cursive Wounds
05:36
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Sealed in youth, he rests...
Born into power, he curses...
Tutankhamun's sarcophagus protected by the venom of the great snake.
The punishment of the ill:
"It makes you stab a whore…
Then her blood will be poured on the floor,
like the wine to your mouth.
Because every drop makes it right”
Substances consume the fuel of the eye.
They put you through a blaze a fire then cleanse every piece of filth you see.
Tut wrote it is through ruthless measures... that you’ll find the key to sleep…
Poisonous wells…
Corrupted kings…
Thy will be done: banish the ones who break the seal or shut the way.
None shall enter...
None shall ever leave...
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It started with the echoes of a battle cry,
the thirst of a hero and satisfaction from the blood of the cup.
Demon-god; caster of corrupted soul, he purifies.
Presses the ghosts of the Underworld into his wine.
Victory to those who respect his rites.
Executioner of Osiris. Protector of Rå.
The unquenchable thirst... and the wine of Shezmu.
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In my presence, the sons of the Earth
Sharpen their instincts on the beats of war.
To prevail or to perish, our passage is assured.
With Magick! The Gods wrap us in.
Sacrifice. Incantation.
The world is trembling under the siege of Megiddo…
Chariots on fire make the sun drown deep in the sea
where the Nile births life. Water source of divine.
Makes us stronger. Casts the shadows away..
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