Beneath the moonlit Spanish skies,
Where shadows dance and secrets lie,
A whisper calls from ancient walls,
A lullaby of souls that sigh.

In cobblestone streets where echoes tread,
The past and present softly blend,
Ghostly figures in the midnight air,
Telling tales that never end.

A serenade of fleeting breath,
The gentle touch of Spanish death,
Embracing all with tender grace,
Leaving stories in its trace.

As dawn approaches, shadows fade,
Yet memories in hearts remain,
Of whispered songs and ancient lore,
Until the night returns once more.