He came from Rome on a throne embroidered with lust and gold to present a gift so extraordinary that all were sent down to the very depths of the libraries to decipher how such a being came to be.
He came from Rome, or so it was said, to bewitch and enchant with a single song, or two if the demand called for it to be, whilst in awe of this dark haired mystery with the jet black goatee aged and matured yet youthful and carefree.
He came from Rome, or in the vicinity as some have been told, not to steal hearts or souls, but to ignite the mind with rhythms and rhymes, picturesque and sublime, for he a creature so divine that on the cloudiest days filled with melancholy and grey. A fragment of his words will emerge bringing harmony to the disarray.
The party faded away and the figure from Rome slipped silently towards the calm ocean bay, singing a melody that would make Elvis sway.