In the quiet of the concert hall,
The strings begin their gentle call,
A dance of notes, both soft and bright,
Painting dreams in the depths of night.

The piano whispers tales of old,
In keys of silver, stories unfold,
Each chord a step in timeless grace,
A journey through a sacred space.

Violins sing with voices clear,
Telling secrets for the heart to hear,
In their embrace, we find our place,
Lost in a world of sound and space.

The symphony, a river flowing,
With winds and brass, its power growing,
A classical embrace, tender and grand,
Leading us gently by the hand.