"What is this place; French?" I asked my host. He smiled. He was a strange man. Well built, clothed in white robe and looked a bit like Morgan Freeman if you ask me. I've never had Morgan Freeman pop into my dreams before. Strange. The place was new too. High ceiling, with soft white lights illuminating the expansive interiors. People walked in and out of the door at the far end, usually all accompanied by white robed Morgan Freeman lookalikes. A band of minstrels was playing a haunting tune on the harp in the corner. Weirder. I looked back at my host, who was deep into the menu card, muttering off items. The tables were all round, adorned with a pristine white cloth. Set atop were some beautiful cutlery and a pair of chalices filled with water. I sipped out of mine, wondering how I had gotten here. Last remembered, I had dozed off tired and disgruntled and then there was a flash of white light. I felt like asking a question, but I was having some trouble
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Let's build Rome then...
The embers still burn, as burnt brick and mortar lie upon a scorched earth. There used to be a castle, where the smoke rises silhouetted against the dark skies. An empire lies in shambles. Arise, awaken! The city that once was shall rise again, the empire that once was shall rule again. Rome shall rise, from the fire that engulfed it, stronger, higher and covered in worldly glory. Set aside the pall of gloom, pick up your shovels and bury the dead. It is time for a new awakening, a new purpose. Let us build Rome again...