You are Roman in your conquest:

your love of sword and blood.

Your hatred of the bar-bars 

to the west and south and east of you.

How you name the mountains 

for the gods you have made 

and collected and forced 

upon the rest of the world. 

You are Greek in your collapse, 

your homes of limestone 

slowly dissolve

by the gentle needles of Zeus’s rain 

as smaller and smaller your

Fortresses decay

in the grand wetness of your time.