In gilded halls where echoes reside,
Violins whisper, and the piano sighs.
Timeless notes in a delicate dance,
Spinning tales of love and chance.
A maestro’s hand, with gentle grace,
Conducts the air, a fleeting embrace.
Crescendos rise, then softly fall,
Like whispers down a moonlit hall.
The cello’s voice, deep and profound,
Resonates through hearts unbound.
Each chord a story, each note a dream,
Flowing like a silent stream.
In the symphony’s embrace, we find,
A piece of soul, a peace of mind.
Classical echoes, forever align,
In the timeless symphony of time.