Three thousand years ago, or more,
The serpent's song begun.
It took a scribe who worked inside
The temple of Amun.
The scribe endured for years, alone,
With pain his only friend.
His only hope was that, in time,
The serpent's song would end.
When Sokar's wrath fell on the snake,
The snake was forced to hide.
It sought protection with its foe
But even then, it died.
The scribe awoke and hoped for home,
Which was not what he found.
He'd hoped that he'd wake up to see
His family gathered round.
The ones he loved were dead and gone.
Their bones were naught but dust.
What he endured was not a dream.
His life had been unjust.
But as he died, a final gift
Was given him by one:
A ritual to send his soul
Back where his life begun.
And then, when he believed that he
Would never more awake,
He woke once more in living death;
A servant of the snake.
The only thing he knew was that
The Tau'ri now were strong.
All he could do was hope that they
Could end the serpent's song.