In the shadow's dance, he turns thirty-six, A gothic spirit, where whispers mix. Beneath the moon's cryptic, inky ray, His Cuban heart beats with ardent sway. From ancient walls, midnight stories sigh, Yet laughter echoes in his children’s eye. A beacon strong in love's tender shade, A husband’s vow eternally made. Through life's dark corridors, bold and free, He carves his path with mystery’s key. In every shadow, his light still gleams, A gothic soul, living heartfelt dreams.