Sage-healed wounds, though creation-conducive, proved inconclusive
A sickly field all that remains perusably revealed of that place
Strewn brick, fallen masonry, sprayed wit between teenager’s names
Ruins age greened. Amidst scree, portions of faces yet pristine
A remarkable austerity
What of once-golden Rome Time permitted posterity
The wind remembers when walls blocked this easy passage.
Alchemisland 
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