Eternal Slumber

In the depths of time, a figure lies entwined, Wrapped in linen, a testament to the past. The skull, a canvas of memories, tells a tale divine, Of life and death, a cycle that will forever last. The wrappings, like the pages of a worn-out book, Reveal the stories of a life once lived, now lost in the look. The eyes, though empty, seem to hold a gaze, A piercing stare that transcends the mortal haze. In this image, we find a reflection of our own fate, A reminder that our time is limited, our state. The mummy's presence whispers secrets of the earth, And the cycle of life, a journey from birth to rebirth. The texture of the wrappings, a testament to the sands of time, Echoes the fragility and beauty of life's rhyme. In this stillness, we find a strange, haunting peace, A sense of connection to the past, a world to cease. The mummy stands, a guardian of the ages, A symbol of the mysteries that turn the pages.