It was one of those days running from sun,
Fed up with it all I turned to my only fun.
Time for pain! My little pets! Here I come!
I call out as I open the iron gates of my dungeon.

Tonight is special because I bring out my tomb.
The princess of torment, the sarcophagus of doom!
Look at their faces when their fate begins to loom,
Now which of them do I invite, into her precious womb?

Oh Look at them squeal, look at them beg,
This is my job, my pity will not loosen a peg.
The room clears out, all but one lonely dreg
I grab him, and pull him out by his puny, little leg.

I open the coffin and the silver teeth sheen.
He squirms and pleads, "How can you be so mean?"
I real in delight, his poor body is so small and lean.
He panics in painwrigglingcontorting in my queen.

Then I begin to close the lid of the cage.
Months I have waited and now I receive my wage.
I take one last look at him, then I slam the gauge.
I cram him in and tell him, "You'll be in for an age!"

"Mercy!" He says, in his embrace of night.
but I can't hear him under a pressure so tight.
I hope the nails puncture the poor old mite.
Writhing only makes it worse, try be light!

Oh don't hate me for the pleasure I seek.
I won't keep him in for a month, just a week?
I'll be so tempted to open the coffin for a peek.
But imagine what happens when he goes for a leak?

Tired from the work I shall sleep for week.

Penned by my hand on the 21st of Khepary, in the year 147 MA.