Story of Sinuhe
The Story of Sinuhe is considered one of the finest works of Ancient Egyptian literature. It is a narrative set in the aftermath of the death of Pharaoh Amenemhat I, founder of the 12th dynasty of Egypt, in the early 20th century BC. It is likely that it was composed only shortly after this date, albeit the earliest extant manuscript is from the reign of Amenemhat III, c. 1800 BC. There is an ongoing debate among Egyptologists as to whether or not the tale is based on actual events involving an individual named Sinuhe, with the consensus being that it is most likely a work of fiction. Due to the universal nature of the themes explored in "Sinuhe", including divine providence and mercy, its anonymous author has been described as the "Egyptian Shakespeare" whose ideas have parallels in biblical texts. "Sinuhe" is considered to be a work written in verse and it may also have been performed. The great popularity of the work is witnessed by the numerous surviving fragments.
Synopsis
Podcasts:
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by Edgewater
Story Of...
by: EdgewaterYour evil eyes with your glass shaped prize
You smell of smoke with your dirty clothes
We're all afraid of your twelve-step stage
You lose control and you won't let go
You say we're weak, but you can't even speak
You scream your words and they don't flow
Your killer rage feels so much pain
You're one last tick of a time bomb
And I'll someday I will
Bleed the story of
The times you took from me
And I will bleed the story of
The youth you wasted me
I finalize that one last time I've gone away and found my home
You feel ashamed for the life you claim
We've said goodbye and you're all alone
You compromise with the letters you write
But ink is dry and we're way too strong
You give a rose for the stones you've thrown
And that's a shame 'cause you're to late
And I run on, run on, run on, run on out
'Cause I don't want to be that way
Running from the things I've seen running from the name of shame
My silver eyes with my brand new life
The memory stays as I go on
And all the seams that were ripped from me have bound their strands
And I'll do no harm
And someday I'll find a way to trade that pain
And all that's wrong about a man who raised his hand