I do not own these characters in either way that they have been presented which I am pulling from; The Bible; and the Dreamworks movie The Prince of Egypt.
By: Anni Re
You've won. Congratulations.
You may take your leave now.
You, and all whom you've torn this family apart for.
Yes, though you scream to your heavens in denial,
You are still part of this family, this dynasty
Was it not we who raised you,
My mother who pulled you from the river into princedom?
My father who adopted you, turned his head from what you were
Was it not I who loved you
Grieved for you when you left us for the sands which should be your tomb
This is how you repay them? Us? Me?
Your mother who cried to death
Your father who aged to sickness
You are still my brother, you said so
And look what you've done to me!
Are you happy now?
Is your Master's mighty vengeance slaked?
My father killed your people, and you killed my son.
My firstborn, my only, taken from me in the night
Now lies limp in my arms as I carry him,
You come as I lay him down and
Cover him with a shroud of cotton
I hear the beat of your sandals against the swish of sheets
In my fingers
This is your nephew you killed
Why have you come
"You and your people have my permission to go."
Or are you here to rub salt in the wounds of ten swords
You broke your country, your family, you broke me
All for the sake of six thousand strangers
You've succeeded, now go.
I feel your callused hand on my shoulder
A hand befitting a slave
Are you trying to console me?
Your comfort is not wanted here
You go and leave me
Cradling his head to mine my son
My son, whom I must watch embalmed and bound
And take the boat ride Osiris took him upon
No, not Osiris
Your God took him
You took him from me
I look at your receding form
Clutching my slain son to my chest
And if one were to look at me
They would say a daemon had clutched my heart
And stared though my eyes at you
As I fell into the blackness of rage and revenge.
Go…brother lead your people on their Exodus
To the deserts where you were lost to me.
But, I will bury my firstborn
Like the king he was meant to be
And my shattered nation will rise from its battered knees
And aim my sword at you.
I shall make a fearful example of you and your kindred.
And the rivers in which your children and brothers rot
Will dye crimson…again
Even the Red Sea will be deserving of its name