An owner of a past darker than your hair

and a handkerchief soaked by hatred.

You carry the sweetest venom on your lips,

so I lie, waiting, for the tanalizing poison.

And I know lies disarmed your soul, that ambition stole your heart,

but your pain hurts more than your betrayal. 

To my greatest fortune, my greatest misery,

I am the coin in the fountain with you as my pending desire.

And although I breathe, air is not enough to make me feel alive.

We live in the present without knowing if tomorrow

there are new horizons, other sublime riddles to be faced.

You are my queen in this land of kings

although life opposes all your decrees.