[back]

048. _akhenaten

prev
next



The heretic of ages past
Who watched a new sun rise
On sacred land, with stone and sand -
A god who never dies

With strange and graceful beauty
So long ago he fell -
His dignity, his failure
His name a broken spell

And to his spirit they are drawn
Unknowing and unsure;
The preacher, poet, mystic, slave;
The outcast and the pure