All hope had fled and now left only doom
As I had rushed to the abolished city
The clouds hung grey, enclosing desolate gloom
Exiled from my home, drunk with pity

The walls stand weak and fragile ,tattered with cracks
A golden trinket I bare against my breast
In remembrance of Rome and all our glorious attacks
The carmine cloak hugged round me like a nest

My hands and feet ache from the arduous trek
But sleep comes not to those of busy minds
The title of general I carried with most respect
I tried too hard and now must stay behind

I'm here deserted feeling as on an edge
Trapped in the old ruins of Carthinage