A drawing of a person playing a Lyre

The Man and His Ancient Lyre.

If you go to Italy, there are many different temples and tombs that have writings and drawings written on the aged stone walls of the ruins themselves. There are many interesting stories that were written in the temples of Rome. One temple in particular, which no longer stands, told me a story about a man. A man and his ancient Lyre. There was once a man who lived in the city of Rome itself. He was a farmer who worked hard during the day. He never became a husband, nor a father. Once in a while, the man would walk around the city of Rome with a large bag in his hands. Inside the bag was grains and crops that he gave to the poor whenever he had too much to make food out of them. He was a generous man, and he was known to almost everyone in Rome. Even the king and queen liked this man.

The man was widely known for being a kind, nice man. He owned no slaves, but sometimes, his neighbors would come by to help with taking care of the crops. The man would even give some of his crops to those who helped him. There was something else the man was known for.

The people believed he was a God.

Some believed he was the son of Apollo, God of music and healing. The man did the very same thing every night, whenever the moon was at its brightest and the stars were at their most, the man would climb the tallest structure in Rome, and play his ancient Lyre. The people in Rome believed it was the same Lyre that Apollo wielded himself.

Whenever the man played, babies would stop crying, brothers and sisters would stop fighting, slaves would stop working, families would go outside to listen to the music. Other players of diverse instruments would gather around the tallest structure where the man stood, they would play in tune with the man, but the Lyre stood out of all the instruments. Groups of people would be in all the streets of Rome, lighting their torches.

Soon, all of Rome was orange with the lit color of fire, and awoken to the sound of pure music. The music could be heard many miles away, but only faintly. The music calmed the body, and when the music stopped, you would have felt the most horrible feeling. Your body would once again be tense and at work, and you would notice it.

The music from the Lyre made the old feel young again. It turned sand into grains, boulders into bread, it made the blind see, and the deaf able to hear again. It kept away disease, and made dead plants alive once again. He was the blessing of Rome. Many believed he was a God, Apollo himself. They believed he was immortal.

But they were wrong.

On a hot summer night, a thief broke into the house owned by the man himself. The thief was jealous of the man, he wanted his Lyre. He believed if he successfully stole the Lyre, he would be as popular as the man himself. He killed the man in his sleep and took the Lyre for himself. The thief dropped the blood of the man onto his Lyre. The thief believed it would bless the Lyre. With his bronze knife, he slowly and carefully dripped a pattern onto the Lyre, made from the blood of the man. The thief escaped from a window and ran out the doors of Rome. He was never seen again.

For five years, the citizens of Rome mourned and sobbed with grief for the man. Plagues flooded the city of Rome, women and children died, plants and crops slowly withered and died, grains and fresh foods rotted and became infested. Rivers made the people sick. The citizens of Rome committed cannibalism even.

But it never happened. It was in their heads.

Overtime, Rome slowly turned into desolate ruins and tombs, even the house the man had owned crumbled away, however, the tallest structure in Rome still stood, and it still stands today.

If you ever go to Rome, go to the ruins at night when the moon is at its brightest and the stars are at their most.

If you listen close enough, you might hear the sound of an ancient Lyre.

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