Amunet

Amunet (/ˈæməˌnɛt/; also spelled Amonet or Amaunet) was a primordial goddess in Ancient Egyptian religion. She is a member of the Ogdoad and the consort of Amun.

Her name, meaning "the female hidden one", was simply the feminine form of Amun's own name. It is possible that she was never an independent deity, as the first mention of either of them is in a pair.

By at least the Twelfth dynasty (c. 1991–1803 BC) she was overshadowed as Amun's consort by Mut, but she remained locally important in the region of Thebes where Amun was worshipped, and there she was seen as a protector of the pharaoh.

At Karnak, Amun's cult center, priests were dedicated to Amunet's service. The goddess also played a part in royal ceremonies such as the Sed festival. Amunet was depicted as a woman wearing the Red Crown and carrying a staff of papyrus.

In late texts from Karnak she was syncretized with Neith, although she remained a distinct deity as late as the Ptolemaic period (323–30 BC).

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by: Amenta

We drown in the bile
Of a frustrated birth
A knife grows in every back
Jaws clenched and tongue bitten
These are all wasted words
These are all a wastrels words
Meanings you will never find
Hidden, lurking between the lines
We are revolving to
Our drain
We are revolving to
Our drain
I've lifted my chin
And ignored the noose
But there is gravity
In the centre of the void
The seed of its end
In every creation
Of a sullen cremation
Heels in the tug of tide
We shudder on shore
Lands end
And what have we got?
Nothing but memory
Success or failure?
Gathering our rags
We walk into the waves
We are revolving to
Our drain
We are revolving to
Our drain
The brightest light
Will gutter, quicker
The wax will stifle the wick
As we burn
For the yearning ember
There is nobility in flame
For the faltering fire
There is only shame
We feel the whine
Sharply, in our teeth
And all our pasts
Chained to our ankles
This is not another
Slit wrist suicide
Its our future drowning
In the bile of cyanide
We are revolving to
Our drain
We are revolving to
Our drain
We drown in the bile
Of a frustrated birth
A knife grows in every back
Jaws clenched and tongue bitten
Drowning in the currents
Of another fleeting void
At the mercy of sleep
The brightest light
Will gutter, quicker
The wax will stifle the wick
As we burn
For the yearning ember
There is nobility in flame
For the faltering fire
There is only shame
Only shame
For the faltering fire
There is only shame




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