The conditions were without any deed,
Yet on the rope of trust I loved, eternal, limitless.
You said, you’d be mine, the days would be colorful.
I kept the one in my mind, in the folds of my heart and in my habits.
Yet today she eats eggs from some shameless plate, from some bastard’s dish.
A deed, some conditions,
You gave it the name of marriage contract.
The one I clung to with all my soul, I never found,
Yet he, without asking, got your ownership written on paper.
You proved, love without a deed is nothing but the tale of a torn paper,
You made our bond an unnamed shadow.
He bought you with the price of a deed,
Yet without a deed, why did you bind me?
You became equal to the stain of ink,
Which turned you into his forever own.
But why then did you show me so many dreams?
Why did you build those vast skies of moments?
Still, I pray for you,
For the one you chose to write beside you on paper, may you stay in joy.
As happy as I am, carving your name deep into this heart of mine.