Do not play with love, nor with the seeds of unquenched longing
Do not play with love, nor with the seeds of unquenched longing,
For in this war of souls, you are destined to lose,
And when you will try to touch me, to catch me in your gaze,
You will feel in your veins a storm, my wild love, a hurricane that does not extinguish.
You will cry in silence, asking for salvation that will not come,
Your soul will be a bleeding wound, a pain without end.
So is the fight in the war of love, a lost battlefield,
I warned you, my dear, love leaves deep marks, scars that do not heal.
Better leave now, do not cast your eyes towards me,
I have put on armor on my shoulders, ready for the battles to come.
I stand for a while in doubt, which dream to choose as refuge,
But I assure you, it will not be one where you will find shelter.
Do not play with love, do not dare to call my horsemen,
Don't you see that for you it would be too late already?
My love is a war where there is no victory,
And if you dare to enter the fight, you will lose more than just a simple desire.
Every step on the field of this love is a lost fight,
Where every breath becomes a battle, every look a confrontation.
In the world of my love, the war never ends,
And if you choose to step in, prepare to lose everything, in this love, in this dance of unfulfilled desire.
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