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.