Manzikert

يك Eclipsing violent centuries over barren Anatolia came from the nascent of a warrior and scholar who fought with the Seljuk flag in God's holy name before he met his decrepit martyrdom in flames دو Fathered from the plundered reflections of a dream therein rose an army of penumbral men to be seen who rode with him and fought for Alp Arslan's throne with the tongues of brown throats that ceased to groan سه Riding on the Eastern steppes in a drench of red regale with death-shed on his banners in a brute scarlet trail through Byzantine cataphracts that deceitfully spore with his men grown in morbid pessimism from war چهار Riding in dry iniquities and awe of this time's grief, his wealth and power led him to the gates of relief born beneath conflicting stars of extreme faith, between Imams and priests that through haram as bait پنج Demanding pleasures between truth to replace the delights of hashish and opium's grace; battles were fought on vulgar fields afar and surely the Byzantines came as fallen stars شش Of Anatolia's pleasures delighted in perverse sin both war and glory imagination schooled to win in penultimate sighs of those impaled and assailed of infidels and egotists blown in the dust of Seljuk gale هفت Burning at the sunset like a portend of battle and doom on the prophet as he fell from his mortal wounds; my men of pure magenta armour in Allāh's right, blazed againts the blue cataphracts in a torrent of light هشت With heavenly vision, he was a Lord upon the slaughter, arising where archers sought him through hissing water; my Lord rallied onto night, adoring the drama, blazing against the Byzantines in haggard armour نه Aligned with Mamelukes framed amid the thick of fire derived from minds that fled with rampant desire at the hearts of men he knew but malevolence in a dynasty earned through Allāh's benelovence ده At the feeble heart of Romanos bled of sense, the Seljuks ragged in dogma of self magnificence; my Lord rode a top of grace like a Herod over Genesis in Turkish hosannas with the terrors of holy paralysis يازده His brash steed moved to insult the Byzantine view as the magenta banners unfurled that his retinue drew, filled from moonstruck dreams with the purple of gnome, storming in an arena of blood as Manzikert was his home دوازده Of a red setting sun and the holy crescent moon applauding the day's end and the Byzantine doom as the dry ground grew sodden and mauled with wayward fantasies marching and appauled سيزده Now the streets of Manzikert bowed to whisper in thin veneer with Seljuk howls so exquisitely honed as relics disappeared in enigmatic britches of the West's ecstatic displays as my Lord cut an evening figure in a glorious swathe چهارده That night we drowned in a stream of unbound pleasure, fattened by the purses of hashish in recreational scripture; rising triumphant on a plume of raven wings, sharing our cup with the enemy admist graver things پانزده From the stained mosque to the statued garden's lawn the sound of Imams chanting lit up the slit of dawn; fragrant and pleased the Lords covenanted in blood, now all tapestried of a new world in a claret flood.