Searing glare
The solar disc casts its wrath
Upon your woeful, smitten limbs
Vultures of the desert
Circle above your cage
Wherein you languish in your own feces

Judgement creeps upon you
Your sickening fate which the gods have given
Agonized in scaphism rite
For you must repent by the most vile tortures

They have sliced your sinews
That thou might never escape from your end
They flayed your skin, boiled your legs
That the desert insects may feed on your wounds

You must burn, in sandswept pain
For Atum-Ra!

Lengthening your caustic death
For which you are fed to the desert...

The sun is boiling you
In this chest besmeared with thy shame

Descending shadow of death
Takes your soul on his blackened wings
In the Duat your horrid fate awaits
Therein your sins burn alight
And your soul will be shattered
Numberless crawlers, flying disgrace
Hatch their breed within you wounds
Festering alive
Under Ra's devouring eye
You are fed to the desert to nourish the sands

You must burn, in sandswept pain
For Atum-Ra!

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