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A summoning ritual on the rooftop

Consulting the wisdom of the gods

The ghost of Nebusemekh is beckoned

From the world beyond

He verified his sad tale

But scoffed at benevolent plays

“Many have come before you,

Failing to fulfill what they say”

Khonsuemheb is stricken

To his very heart

He cannot ease his conscience

With things as they are

Ritual ceased

He sent his servants out

“Find a suited place

For a new tomb to be built”

The servants find a proper place

And work begins right away

But progress is hard-won

As tragedy strikes every day

Pestilence afflicts the workers

The tomb succumbs to its weight

Smitten, bludgeoned, or buried

The dead accumulate

Undeterred, Khonsuemheb

Will not cede his vow

No matter the scores of dead

On which the tomb is ground

The last day approaches

When work is nearly done

Nebusemekh appears

To reveal what shall come