You my Colusseum,
The fortress to my deepest emotions my endless truths and timeless thoughts of you,
The view that waits for me at the top of your garden overlooking the city of preserved golden idols and melancholic gods of War
You my Ares, blessed in the golden sun
Between the cobbled streets of history and music, knowledge and expectation,
For you my muse destined to leave like fait has foretold
Leaving for home while leaving me in Italy,
The land of great poets who fought for their love yet watched them leave,
Just like you my colosseum,
My american dream

Concentrated anger finds me between the symmetrical collision of clocks,
Two matte black hands reaching for my neck as the hull of my ship crumbled under the weight of a restless consciounce , drowning in secluded tears by empty knowledge docks
Silenced by superiors to a point that my forced vow of tranquility deprived me of my sight
Still asking for your thought process and what gave you the right
Listing my flaws and making them public
Constant thoughts you had in happier times no longer remained unpublished
Spilling secrets at private parties knife to my neck a notoriety still tarnished if you aim for the head
Only burning my reputation to avoid a longer sentence, openly confessing unrequited sympathy
For the witness
The accused
The guilty
You called me all but the prosecutor
A title stolen so untimely by hands of crimsen, deep eyes of green and and a mind so emotionally refined you seemed unperturbed by the ****
How?
Pushed off the bridge of sighs,
Reasons in the plenty
Imagined a 1000 times,
Granted one final look at my tarnished memory
Signed off with a kiss and two crosses by its side the culpable apparently on nobodies mind but the name liberte the only one on mine