Someday

I have built Rome for me and her. Rome was besieged. Rome was battered till what I have today, the remnants of this Rome called Memories.

All these while I view myself as an amazing strategist and predictor. I always thought I am great. Reality struck me when the Rome I have built was burnt and crushed down.

At this moment, I admire the great minds of the ancient civilization. Their words of wisdom can hold true and withstand the test of time to remain relevant even today. Waves of challenges and condemnation have been pouring in every single day, every single hour of my life from my allies, from my beau, and from the world.

Nothing seems to go right. I seek refuge only at the place I have built with my own bare hands together with my beau. I sit there in a small corner. Looking around me, I see darkness and not a sparkle of light.

Looking at myself, I see the once great man in rags and torn clothes with bare feet. Smelling the air, the burnt smell of the great walls of Rome still lingers. Stretching my ears out, I can hear only the sound of nature.

It is now nightfall. On several occasions, I can hear the cries of the battle that I lost in protecting and upholding the Rome I built. Most of the time, it is just the sound of my teeth clattering, my body shivering, and my tears rolling down to ground.

I feel cold. I am all alone. I bend my legs, sitting in that dark corner, hugging my own body to keep myself as warm as possible. There is neither fire nor light around me.

Surprisingly, I see the chess game I used to play with my beau in this beautiful Rome I built. Mmm. The memories of the chess game we played. I was the knight and my beau was the Queen of this place. We explored every corner below the Sun. We passed streams, mountains with great pain and sorrow but the powers of joy and happiness of our lives and experiences overruled them.

The pieces are all over the garden now. Yes, the Rome I built was a beautiful garden, with her favourite flowers. The pieces are now lying on a garden, covered by a bed of burnt roses and tulips.

I approached the board and the pieces. Rearranging it on the board with my weak and shivering hands. The board is now well placed. I no longer have a sparring partner. My Queen has left the Rome we built.

The game can still move on, a voice inside my heart whispering to me. My hands are still firmly beside me.

Voices kept going inside my heart, in my doldrums. "Go on, make the move, play the game again ...".

My hands are rooted at my side. I dare not make any moves. Looking back at what I have done all these years, it was all driven by my love for the Queen of Rome. I have protected the walls of the Garden in Rome so well. I have given everything under the Sun that my beau wanted.

When Rome was burnt with a hand from my beau, it was something I never expected. I sit and stare at my newly placed pieces. The first move I make, will surely be driven by the dark side of me.

I ask myself. What is the feeling of the creator of Rome now? I feel sad, lonely. I ask myself also. Am I angry and is there hatred for my beau? That question, took me sometime to ponder and answer.

It turns out I am disappointed, shocked. Perhaps a mixture of anger and confusion. But that anger soon disappear when flashes of her smiles and laughters filled my mind. I wasn't even angry of my beau. I am angry of myself and my Protectors in the end.

What have I done to deserve something like this, I question the skies ! I calm myself down again. The night is getting colder. I need to rebuild the walls and the beautiful Garden.

Allies started to pour in help to make me stand up and join them. I refused to leave this Garden of Rome that was so beautiful. My allies are now mad. I know there are many roses out there beyond this Roman Garden I built. But there is only one rose that I want. If I had not found the rose I wanted and kept so dearly in this Garden, I wouldn't even have built solid walls to protect the occupants of Rome.

I built the walls. Every tree and flower plant in this Garden, I planted them with my own bare hands with my beau around, preparing tea for my breaks, wiping my sweat and blood off with love and care.

The special rose was planted in the middle, cared for so dearly by me each day. The rose, is now burnt along with all the other flowers.

I leave the game of chess in front of me, and walk towards the middle of the Garden, picking up the once large, red and beautiful rose. The roots are still there. The plant is still alive. But the rose, is all burnt.

I hear the whisper again. The voice of my heart. "Pick it up, and let your tears and sweat revive the plant".

I fear not the large thorns, I fear not my bleeding hands. I cleared the area around the Rose. Tears and sweat and blood began to drip. Mmm. A smile is crafted at my lips.

I can smile once again. Messengers have been flowing in and out to tell me to leave. But what is it that I want? I want to rebuild the Garden and revive the Rose.

I put in efforts day and night. Till I realise, the Rose is alive again. The chess board still sits there. I have revived the Rose. What about my beau? My chess game?

I cannot and will not play my first move. For I know, if I make my first move, I will be so scared and skeptical till I make my second move, where I know I will be motivated by the dark side.

Looking around me, still in rags , my hands with fresh blood from caring for the Rose, bruises from rebuilding the Garden, I feel cold even at daylight now.

I have nothing left to do. As I sit in this Garden, I await the return of my beau. The chess game still not played. I sit there day and night staring at the board. Only the whispers of my heart know what I want. Only the whispers of the winds know whom I want. Only the whispers of nature know what I need to be the great man once again. Only the whispers of my Protectors know the scrolls of Fate.

I am sitting here. Feeling cold. The chess game of life placed on a raised platform. Looking across it, I see an empty space. Mmm. Visions of my beau smiling at me suddenly appear. It lasted a while only. I smile as I await for my beau to return, to a stronger wall of Rome, to a once again beautiful Garden of Rome, to give me the blanket of love and warmth, to give me the tearful kiss and cure all pains and wounds. I smile as I await.

"What a fool you are", messengers of my Allies tell me. The return might not come at all.

But the truth is the smiles I have now are driven by the hope of the return each day when I open my eyes. Let me smile and carry on. I have not lost it all. Take my kingdom, but do not take my Rome.

For it is only Rome, that makes my life, that defines my life, that drives my life. When I get my life back, with the return of my beau, I shall reclaim what I have lost in a flash of a lightning, with the sound of thunder. I shall conquer what I believe is mine.

Mmm. The pleasant feeling of my Rome ...but is now nightfall again. I feel cold. I am all alone. I can hear the clatters of my teeth, the shivers of my body and the tears rolling down my cheeks to touch the ground. I see raindrops suddenly ... Heaven cries along with me. But I am getting colder as time passes by ....

It is ... so ......... cold ...

Someday, people will realise something - my beau and my allies - what they are all missing, what they have all missed, what they have all overlooked in me. Someday, the Garden of Rome will be lively again. I can hear the whispers of the Guardians of Scroll of Fate. "Be patient, my child and follow the whispers of your heart, and someday ....."

Someday :'(