Rome!
Dilapidation and confusion.
The air oozes with graffiti
and sweeps past papal tombs.

The noise!
The noise attacks my ears
like beggar that desires my wallet.

The smell of cappuccino
fights with the smell of piss.
Trash everywhere.

Oh, Rome!
Your splendor has been lost to pigeons.
What little still remains is rubble.
The sacred rubble of the days gone by.
A shadow of the former greatness…

However,
the blood at Colosseum is still moist.
The stones weep for martyrs.
Is this what makes the holly virgin sad?
Her son was but a nameless gladiator
whom slaughtered thee for entertainment.

The saints are speechless.
Their faces are charred black,
eroded and disgraced.
Soot hides their unspoken shame.

I’m glad that Roman emperors are dead.
They died without knowing
what time has done to their vision.
But maybe it is for the best?
The cruelty and decadence has come to bitter end.

I mourn the ruins.
I celebrate the past
and breath the Catholic faith.