Diving Down The Hill

Hear the clashes of Damascus steel, rippling through tonight’s battlefield

Scaling ridges ‘cross the lake from torrential rain with no shield

There’s no further enveloping, nor rapturous taste to many a talented tongue under the sun

Than salted blood of enemies fatal wounds on a victorious sword

Smoked sweet by serenading sparks of slashing notes

Save one…

Both are chalices for the exquisite champagne of an eternal eros ‘round the clock

My clavicles, and those of King Solomon, are of the same stock

A stronger, deeper love still

Climbing up carnelian cliffs

And diving down the hill

زرفشاں