An Excavated Archeological Discovery Or Just A Curse? Poem by D.N. Rebb

In the valley of the Kings
Hidden in the debris of another
Through a plaster-filled doorway
A most preserved pharaoh
Midst ancient Egyptian treasure
Including the gold mask
Of Tutankhamun
King at only nine
Ruler for only nine
Thirty-three hundred years later
Meet Britain's Howard Carter
And a young un-named water boy
Who tripped on a stone
That turned out to be
The top of a flight of stairs
Cut into the solid rock
Over five thousand treasures were discovered
Golden couches and chests
Bejeweled thrones and shrines
Why disturb an ancient burial site?
Doomed be he who moves his body
The curse of King Tut
Death and destruction
Under mysterious circumstances
The man who financed,
Lord Carnarvon
Was first to go
By blood poisoning
Reid, who x-rayed the tomb,
Died three days later
Ingham and Ember's houses burned down
Gould caught pneumonia
Hebert became blind
Bethell was strangled
Breasted's canary was eaten by a cobra,
The symbol of monarchy
Worn on Tut's headdress
And White committed suicide
His final note said,
I've succumbed to a curse
Which forces me to disappear

And yet,
On Carter's headstone, it is written
May your spirit live,
May you spend millions of years,
You who love Thebes,
Sitting with your face to the north wind
Your eyes beholding happiness

He lived to be sixty-four
Carter was spared
No one knows why