A lovely nightshade
Alone with the crowd.
The deadly Queen of Spades,
Gazes with her porcelain shroud.

An ambitious explorer,
Searching for his prized clover,
Stumbles upon an enigmatic aura.
She had finally caught her Joker.

Grace and solitude clash,
Leaving nothing but ambiguity.
Her unrelenting wrath
Against his unrivaled impunity.
Nothing but ambiguity.

Her venomous glare weakens
At his touch, cracking her porcelain shield.
His radiant confidence seething
Through her defenses as she yields.
Nothing but ambiguity.

The Joker had caught his clover.
The Queen’s shroud stripped bare.
Our Joker’s odyssey now over,
Ending within the arms of his new maiden fair.
Nothing but ambiguous love.
Nothing but ambiguous hate.