What happens to the ancient gods when their worshipers are gone?

Who used to fight the darkness and bring light with every dawn

The gods of the sands, of the eternal cycle of birth and death

Now who remains to worship the old gods in pleading breath?

The violent embrace of the desert sands makes two immortal

Carved stone and faded paint in every tomb and dead hall

Gods and mortals alike are preserved in stone not memory

Is not memory a form of worship of dedication most weighty?

Do the gods still know their names if we call them by what we know?

Your likeness is not forgotten, but reverence they do not bestow

Ra, is the sun still yours?  Osiris, the dead still your domain?

Sekhmet, wars still rage, and Hathor, we do not love in vain.

Bodies and lost souls, did they ever make it to their afterworld?

The Ka has nowhere to return and the Ba flies with wings unfurled

Would the kings of old be pleased to know their legacy continued?

Power did not grant fame, for the ones erased are most viewed

Their dead are propped up under glass and their wealth on display

At least you are not forgotten and are remembered to this day