In the quiet room where echoes play,
A violin whispers its gentle say,
Strings like threads of silver light,
Dance with dreams in the silent night.

A piano’s keys, both black and white,
Sing stories of joy, of love, of flight,
Each note a step in a timeless dance,
Binding hearts in a fleeting trance.

The cello hums with a deep embrace,
Voice of earth, with a velvet grace,
Its song a river, slow and wide,
Where sorrow and hope gently glide.

Together they weave a tapestry bright,
A symphony born of day and night,
Instruments speaking without a word,
Where the soul’s purest songs are heard.