Beneath the moonlit veil of Spanish earth,
Where shadows dance in silent mirth,
A tale of sorrow softly weaves,
Amidst the rustling autumn leaves.

In cobbled streets where whispers dwell,
The echoes of a lost farewell,
As flamenco notes begin to fade,
The night enshrouds a serenade.

A soul departs with gentle grace,
Leaving behind a fleeting trace,
Of love and laughter, joy and pain,
In Spanish rain, the tears remain.

Yet in the heart of every song,
The spirit lingers, ever strong,
For death may part us from the flesh,
But memories forever mesh.