Rome.

I am embarking on a new endeavour, as the pages turn. This chapter of my life will be filled with new lessons that I must learn. You and I, we grew apart, as we took one another for granted. The seed of love that grew within has died, the promises recanted. I rebuilt this city on my own, placing one brick at a time. Yet throughout it all I refused to acknowledge that love is only worth a dime. A penny on a good day, it has become so plebeian. I feel calm and serene, like the waters of the Aegean. For a brief moment, our lives were entwined; you held my hand and showed me my noble path. Now, as a specimen that has become so refined, all I can feel is your miserable wrath. The pages keep turning, as the passion burns out. Snuffed, like a candle that was once devout. In my conviction, I see that I was wrong, to assume that you were my saviour, that our meeting was like a song. You guided me like the stars, all I needed was to look in your direction to find my way home. But now I am alone, and I must make this journey on my own. As Rome was not built in a day, we must go our own separate ways. 'Tis always better to have loved and lost, even if love has the power to exhaust. I am stronger than ever before, no longer meagre in my supply. Just know that you will have my shoulder until the day that I die.