Saudade

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They sit out the sun-soaked days

Doused in reminiscence

In the shadow of his wraith

As years stretch into loneliness

Haunted by the ghosts of past 

They sit veiled in velvet dust

Holding on his vestiges -

Yellowed pages inked in verse

Here he used to weave in words

Stories of the unknown worlds

And they who stood by, sentinel

Are doomed in endless solitude

Now, by the wistful courtyard 

In the sillage of the bard

Between the melancholic hours

They sing a dirge of saudade