A Roman story –

Roman Emperors, bidding, biting slaves, and gracious problems, looking sideways into a far distance, seeing through dark crevice guards, perils of the abstract collective before medieval scribes popularised Carta for Noblemen, House, and retinue.
Romanising words, the story of brave men stabbing senators in hearts, debating dogs with daggers, and the Greeks knew nothing either, or, of Paul the Areopagus ‘Babbler’.
Growing up in toga after toga, nothing to eat but gold and grapes, groomed to hate self and all else known, except Equality in living Gods.
Here it was, before it was, His & Her stamina strides on marble steps, on commoner’s necks, the few to the many before Normans could read and conquer by ‘Right’.
Outside, white and off-white stone all lying around the place, gave-up and grew over dead backs into serious-styled round-houses for straight talking message filtering before a Galilean added doubt.
That exploding mentality in their sky-Sun, it fell onto one man’s face, so, He to ground, and He to beg, and Rome waited, ivy leaf, tear, and marble open.

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