[b]Shining Rivers, Great Roads[/b] There are brilliant rivers Shining and alone, But under her waters, There are bones. So like the streets and roads of Rome Where many made their homes, Under their splendor upon which you tread, Lies the the bodies of those long dead. That die breaking their backs for the empire they serve, Only to be remembered as nothing but serfs. So here we are again, Walking these broken streets where the dead lie, Trying to find where we began.