Reflection paper - Essay Example

Running Head: Reflection Paper Rome: The of Soul Rome is an outlandish game among its people and the embodiment of humanity, an existing irony of universality in peculiarity. That sentiment which emerges normally at Rome is an unclear sense of heavy tributes; a feeling of such burden and immensity in a long-gone life, of which Rome was the heart, that the current period is depressed or pressured, and our personal relationships and motives are but incomplete as true, here, as somewhere else. And still, unusually, perceived through this way, our story may appear not broadly distinct from the grain of our lives.

Rome is gifted with an exceptional power to embed on the people their inferiority to the universal truth, mortality. Rome is a monotonous city, and it imposes a dreadful burden on humanity, when any melancholy within the spirit epitomizes the presence of rubble, that has been tossed over the spot of the earliest kingdoms. I strolled, as it were, and encountered the ruined columns and pillars, and among the sepulchers, and felt around my way into the burial dimness of the tombs, and discovered no route coming out from them.

The terminal curse of Rome stems from the messages it unrelentingly presents between outer and inner sceneries. It is a city where the subjective and hidden gets seriously transformed into the historical and obvious, where the sightseers observe in the rubbles the many of lost holes that rest defeated in Rome’s earth. I do not really know how to describe, in any harmonious and friendly way, the Rome that exists now; its dark pathways, and avenues of palazzos; its cathedrals, surrounded with the exquisite stones or marbles that were initially refined for the decoration of pagan sanctuaries; its hosts of wicked scents, combined with the aroma of many a thousand incenses; its modest life, gaining meager energy from what has been gone long time ago.

Far and wide, some part of ruin, showing the splendor of a past age; far and wide, furthermore, a Cross, and cruelty at its base. As the entirety of everything, there are memories that rouse the soul, and darkness and a lethargy that dishearten it further than any breadth of gloomy feeling that can be felt in another place. The collection of the undiscovered remains is what makes the singular atmosphere of Rome. The vaulted and curved partitions of the burial alcoves are propped up by huge columns and pillars; the entire fabric of the structure seems to be of the same type; and the imprinted decorations and handles of this exceptional city are embodied by the backbone’s joints, and, the more fragile outline, by the weaker human skeletal bones.

The abyss was only one of the lips of that trench of darkness that rest beneath Rome, far and wide. The strongest substance of human bliss is but a slim layer dispersed over it, with merely truths sufficient to hold out the misleading Rome in the middle of which we tread.