It's funny, you know?
How we used to talk of Paris, Rome –
one day where we would call our home

But no longer do we talk, and I have a flight booked
to Paris; I've already been Rome

You are still close to home, talking to others now,  of
Paris, Rome

If the Sacred Fire of Vesta went out, it meant one of two things:
             meant
1. Rome was in danger;
                                                  meant
2. A Vestal ******, a guardian of the flame, was having ***.  
Chastity                                      and                                       fire
are two attributes that are directly correlated.  If one is lost,
the other will follow.  Trust me.  This is fact:
                                                                ­                 only ****** women
                                                                ­                   can be celebrated.

The ****** Mary,
                                the ****** goddesses,
                                                      ­                 the way **** was seen as a crime
                                                           ­        against the father, not the daughter:
                            women
                     ­         must
                            remain
                ­              pure.  

Do not eat the pomegranate seeds,
do not touch the fruit of knowledge.  A
                                                   ­                    statue of a young boy
                                                             ­              holding an apple
                                               does not hold
                                        the same connotation
as a woman holding an apple.  Offering it to a man who
could have refused.  Getting blamed for the fall from Eden.  

                           A woman
with a snake draped around her body is not Eve,
is Lilith, but it’s close enough.  They are both to blame for
all the evils of the world, so what does it really matter anyway?  Women
are more susceptible to wavering in their faith in God,
to worshipping the devil, to practicing witchcraft—

            The flames are out.  Rome is not safe.  A “******” is buried
            alive for her sin.  Lilith is slaughtering women in childbirth.  
            Babies  are  dying.   A  man  is  celebrated  for  his  multiple
            lovers.   ****  shaming  in  79  AD.    The  beds   in   Pompeii
            brothels are made of stone.   St.  Cecilia  is  face  down in the
            dirt.   Women on the same level as slaves,  if not lower.  The
                                     goddess Vesta as a housewife.

The year is 180 AD
                                 The year is 2016 CE
        No one cares for the senators
                        Or the news
       The wage gap is growing wider   The country frequently finds itself divided
Threats abound from both within
                                       And outside
              One thousand years
          Of technology and culture
                  Will be lost again
              for one thousand years
             In the midst of a dark age
This is the end of Pax Romana
                       And, if we're not careful
                         The end of our own era

Born to sour temperament and political policy,

Weakness gleamed in tremor's slight,

To pale to be of Grecian ilk,

Thank Gods no country side in sight.




Now seven years the barracks beckons,

My Mother's pride sent to the stake,

Twenty three years for the pain in me,

No time for us soldiers to be fake.




Wonders of becoming that horrid equal,

A wife to take but no house to live,

Those whips a dear and cutting friend,

No muscle ever the chance to give.




Now thirty years we slot in perfectly,

So time again now doubled in blue robe,

Strong through beatings beautiful brutality,

We never Athenian but of Spartan abode.

Poetry is emotion
Traveling  is a magician of intensity
How much should I hate my blood
to be able to love my own skin?

I’ve been wandering
In the city of monuments
Where everything is grand
And old and new
And presents a promise
Of great deeds

I’ve been inspired
By the masters of old
Who dedicated their lives
To art and thought
And brought us closer
To a passionate force

I’ve been humbled
By the grandness of eternity
The beauty of tranquility
The artistic infinity
A stark contrast
With my own humility

Rome, my Utopia
Where God and man alike
Wander in awe
Dreaming of a time
Where time was relative
And dreams came true

Rome, my Utopia
Where I wandered in awe
Inspiration by my side
Admiration in my mind
Dedication in my heart
And Rome all around me