dawn of the sixteenth century…
rome the wh*r* spreads wide her legs
for luxury, lechery, and their bl**dy corollary…
hypocrite town built on heathen grounds,
welcome the foulest clan…
caesar, rodrigo and lucretia,
the orgiac borgias…
on the outside, the duke caesar is an accomplished gentleman,
but he’s two-faced, his kindness is all on the surface,
and according to scandalmongers, he’s even crueller than clever.
black eyes, black hair and dark velvet
contrast with the cadaveric whiteness of his flesh.
his father’s nothing less than the supreme pontiff,
a master in the art to fornicate with the immaculate,
a profligate, despite his functions – fraud of god –
who meets fleshly maries in a boudoir next to the sanctuary.
these two baroque monsters share the same l*st for power,
seeking to reunite a divided italy under their unique authority.
they transform the court of vatican in a place of delights and elegance
where several crowned heads discover the corrosive virtues
of a platter seasoned to poison…
campaign after campaign, they conquer;
those who don’t surrender are swiftly sent six feet under.
with despotic politics and diplomacy,
they am*ss riches and resentment of many enemies.
amidst all this depravity, young lucretia’s an oasis of purity,
although the n*ble mob and rightful crooks, skilled in sycophancy,
covet her hymen through nebulous hymns…
slave of her malefic lineage, crushed by a ceremonial gown,
the poor child, used and abused,
copes three alliances of tribulations.
but soon, on an afternoon, after a dinner with a friend,
the pope suffers from severe stomach burns.
some days later, he dies in his bed full of sweat,
leaving behind him only troubles and confusion…
the empire he bequeaths to his son
dissolves as dew under the sun.
the house is abolished,
but the name remained in history
as a synonymous of treachery.