The Fall of Human Rome

How many Romes have we built, how many times have they fell...

The cigar is lit again

The dark room, the Observer’s home

This time the pen’s observation

The fall of human Rome

 

At its zenith its grandeur was striking

It fell on every eye’s liking

It even shocked the masons

Who laid the stone

 

It was once considered a marvel

One full but now, alone

Was it the tide of summer wind?

Was it the rains or winter snow?

 

Why the stones of human Rome fell

No one seems to know

Not even those who made its plans

Or those who labored with sweat, and hand

 

Once so very beautiful

Now simply mere ruins and sand

Once filled with life and vigor

Now just with memories

 

The pen told the fall of Rome

Was this the way it was destined to be?