Then
it was back to the fall.
Constantine’s
sacred stitches
Weren’t
enough.
Civil
Wars came back
Emperors
throw away Constantine’s work.
Rome
once again fell ill
Her
dress split at the seams.
The
moths came back
To
feast on her material.
Barbarians
sacked the city.
The
Huns,
The
Visigoths,
The
Franks,
Lombards,
Angles,
Saxons,
Celts,
Ostrogoths,
All
wanting a little piece of the once proud lady named Rome.
She
screamed
She
burned
No
one could do anything to save her.
The
great empire shattered.
Rome
collapsed on her hilly throne
Her
blood spilled in the streets
As
the Ostrogoth king took her crown
Claiming
it as his own.
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