The New Death and others Read Online Free Page B

arrived
    below the tomb of Nitocris
    where she was sealed alive.
     
    ---
     
    As subtle as a cobra's hiss
    the one who lay within:
    the pitiless Queen Nitocris
    queen of the ghoul and djinn.
     
    The merciless Queen Nitocris
    who, some have dared to write,
    still has her throne within the stone
    as pharaoh of the night.
     
    No guide would come here in the night.
    The tourists lay in bed.
    I stood, the only living thing
    among the royal dead.
     
    I cringed and looked around like one
    who braces for attack.
    I looked up at the silent tomb
    and it, I thought, looked back.
     
    In terror of I knew not what
    in darkness and alone
    I cried. The desert drank my tears
    and stayed as dry as bone.
     
    No guide or tourist dared to come
    without the light of day.
    Who was it then that came to me
    and carried me away?
     
    ---
     
    They wore a shape that had not seen
    the day since days began
    with leering face that showed no trace
    of any race of Man.
     
    They held me with inhuman hands
    and carried me inside.
    I walked in silent blackness till
    I felt that I had died.
     
    I felt that I had died and gone
    to walk among the damned
    forever in the secret places
    underneath the sand.
     
    Down in the dark, down in the dark
    down through the rock and slime
    away from light and human sight
    and sanity and time.
     
    At last they stopped and let me drop
    down to the cavern floor.
    I gasped for air. I felt despair
    and soon I felt no more.
     
    ---
     
    A distant music woke me up:
    shrill pipes and chanted words.
    The faintest beat of shuffling feet--
    but were they feet I heard?
     
    But were they feet, or hooves, or paws
    or something with no name?
    I watched and listened in the dark
    as on and on they came.
     
    I listened as the choir shrieked.
    Drums pounded. Pipers whined.
    I watched as well, and in this Hell
    I wished to be struck blind.
     
    The torches held by mummy's hands
    and other hands far worse
    shone forth and I, who longed for light,
    now called that light a curse.
     
    The day my eyes first opened up
    I called an evil day.
    I could not stand the things I saw
    yet could not look away.
     
    ---
     
    The parts of man and beast and corpse
    none in its natural place
    each rotted, writhing, wretched part
    set in a human face.
     
    And last of all and worst of all
    and queen of all the vile
    unholy things that slithered in
    the dark beneath the Nile
     
    and last of all and worst of all
    the queen of the undead
    foul Nitocris whose jackal fangs
    were stained a bloody red.
     
    Her skin was stretched and torn and
marked
    and rough like ancient hide.
    I looked into her eyeless face
    and maggots squirmed inside.
     
    I know not why I did not die
    or fall or shriek in fear.
    Then all at once forgotten words
    seemed whispered in my ear.
     
    ---
     
    Strange words which I had read, but not
    thought worthy of my trust
    seemed spoken though their author had
    long since returned to dust.
     
    He lived unloved and died unmourned
    and knew no wealth or fame.
    An Arab whom the world called mad.
    Al-Hazred was his name.
     
    He lived unloved and went unmourned
    into eternal night
    but in the dark I thought of him
    and knew him to be right.
     
    I looked upon that dreadful face
    and knew the reason why
    al-Hazred said, "That is not dead
    which can eternal lie."
     
    Al-Hazred said, "That is not dead
    which can eternal lie.
    A soul may burn and yet return
    and even death may die."
     
    ---
     
    I saw the world that he had seen
    long centuries before:
    an apple shining red and round
    but rotten to the core.
     
    All health was sickness. Life was death.
    The sacred was profane.
    The Arab whom the world called mad
    I knew him to be sane.
     
    All health was sickness. Life was death.
    The greatest was the least.
    My human soul gave up control
    and I became a beast.
     
    I stumbled, howling in the dark
    in misery and fear
    perhaps for days, perhaps for weeks
    or for ten thousand years.
     
    Perhaps for days, perhaps for weeks
    beyond all and guilt