Lust of the Mummy

BY DR. AGONSON

Held together by arcane sorceries,
a bloodless corpse with dried out arteries,
mocking the world and profaning young life
by renewing your old, accursed strife
to win back what was never yours to love
from the depths of the grave and vault above,
you’re now more a demon, I’d say, than man
—your skin’s more bandages than it is tan—
for the greatest evil of your pursuit
is you’d make of her the same, dried out fruit.
So as your hand then touches your desire,
we see that you are no more than a liar.
She discovers you are mere crumbling dust,
and all of your love is possessive lust.
You claim that you want her, body and soul,
but won’t give her freedom from your control.
Though her mind you oppress, still she entreats
and is saved by some miraculous feat.
So, Imhotep, you are consumed by flames,
and so are frustrated in all your aims.