The Fall Of Rome.

This is a poem about how the Fall of Rome is also the fall of the present system.




We gazed as gods upon the fall,
At towers toppling, the circus cruel,
For nothing now could avert this flood,
Nor any physician stem the blood.


The temples filled with golden idols,
Are the haunt of whores, base brothels,
Where traitors worship aliens and their vices,
Whilst nailing truth upon their crosses.


In palace halls the music plays,
As city streets are set ablaze,
Outlaws stalk the shadowed ways,
As wolves await the end of days.


No wise words from Cato can abate,
The tide unleashed of ancient hates,
Each boat that berthed aside the pier,
Has brought these hours ever near.


As fools still pluck the broken lyre,
Every note designed to flatter liars,
Tumbrels stacked with foreign dead,
Deliver the Empire’s rancid bread.


War and disease walk forth with pride,
And treason has no need to hide,
Pity weeps in a tomb of terror,
As even the wisest live in error.


The fields are filled with locusts,
As wordless now sit the sophists,
Slaves in chains no longer toil,
The light has died for lack of oil.