you come before me, she who spits

syllables proving that all are killable

by the nonsencible gibberish that is only

legible or understandable by those

who think not with the blades that strike

down the foes flesh, but the sword that strokes

with such a fluid motion that sobek could recognize

it as something as beautiful as a trail of his own

precious Nile guardians.



I who speak like he in the words of they

that scramble your literature and capture

the very beauty of the enigma that might

put you in a maze that amazes the mind that can

not find the light beyond your weak perception of

what is might or was right, how humorous are they

yes they who desire to play with the masters

that cast their judgement upon them and deem

them as one i must bow to.



But i need not call on my masters names or raise

my paw to flare claws that could rend you

like the heat of day, oh no i only need simple words

put in an elegant diction without your pitiful syntax

or restrictions for poetry is a weapon that riddles

the psyche as it fiddles with the heart, and confounds

she who looses hope in what she stood for.





Authors notes: i thought about making a riddle form of this but i like it the way it is, it speaks of the power of words and that is what a sphinx stands for it is the proof that the mind is just as powerful as any blade and the Egyptian mythos is awesome