Fragments of the Lost Rome

            Watching your home crumble to pieces is like enduring the pain when someone is tearing your soul out of your body. The thick walls of the barricade were not able to keep its strength. Trojans were fooled. Young heroes died one by one and some earned their courage to stand up and fight. All of their efforts went futile to the full-blown army of the Greeks.

            On the other hand, a young hero named Aeneas fought with all his might to save his home. A home that served as his sanctuary from when he was born, a home that served as their mother keeping them warm at night and aware from the eyes of avenging soldiers, was gone. Tears fill their eyelids and the dark of the night made him more miserable. Cries and scream roared symbolising their nearing death. Aeneas endured the pain of hearing his brothers wept in pain and anguish. The young hero fled to save his family leaving his destroyed home in the hands of the angry soldiers of the Greek.

            Losing his home was terrible, as it seems, for it was like destroying yourself together with your personality. Home resembles everything that made us human. Hardships, love and even pain, it made us experience it all. It trained us to face life with all our might and courage. Brick by brick it built our personality. Losing it was far more than destroying ourselves, our foundation of personality. All the memories will always be just a memory. A fragment that would resemble ourselves, it was sad to think that everything that we went through would just vanish, sad to think that everything will just exist in our minds. Aeneas lost his home and many of his brothers. He fled with his comrades keeping this tint of hope that keeps him alive and standing for his family and friends. A flame of courage burns inside him, he kept his home in his heart, his memories will linger not just in his mind but also in his heart. These memories will keep him fighting. This memories are the fragments of his home, fragments of the lost Rome.