I sit back in
the place of attack, but equipped for
battle this time;
The enemy won't win.
I laugh at him as
I greet the dawn with
a love soaked heart.
It smells like
leather, and my baby's hair.
I'm fully aware of
the antagonist's snares, and tricks,
but we won't be trapped.
See, this isn't a
tragedy, it's the epitome
of romance and victory.
I'm a stallion, and
she rides me into
the evening as we
eat peaches and
pomegranates, and let
the juice glisten on
our faces in God's
glorious setting sun.