With passion for our beloved king,

he demands a home after his previous cradle.
The monument arises 455 and 755 feet vast.
Millions of blocks bear by nearby quarries.
Mineralized limestone chiseled down to the optimum equip.
Followers dawdle up flights of narrowing ladders.
Droop days, we work, yet to bleat, to be thankful for the task.
It was the end, my lifeless father, as breathless as the stones we haul.
The wheels give out. Tumbling upon he.
Twelve years of exertion, the monument stands.
It is not only a burial for the beloved king, but a burial for my beloved father.