Bobby Baldacchino

In Sofia’s gentle evening light,
Where whispers of the past take flight,
I sit beneath the ancient trees,
And feel the tender, mourning breeze.

The cobblestone, beneath my feet,
Resound with echoes bittersweet,
For here in shadows, soft and deep,
Memories do gently creep.

The city’s heart beats slow and soft,
As twilight weaves its velvet cloth.

Though you have gone, your spirit stays,
In dawns and twilight haze.

So in this city, old and wise,
I bid farewell with teary eyes.

Rest now, dear David, soft and kind,
Your spirit free, your soul unbind.