Early Tale

No fainter could it be
Near abstract
Almost suckled with
By a fluent ex-citizen, father
In his grave still murmuring
-…, Perché!? …, Bastardi!
More pale in-commons
For what! The scarecrow,
Which is the impaled spear
On the gate, or the
She, who nursed the seven hills,
A fortifying walled growth…