In the stillness of the night, a piano softly speaks,
Its keys, like whispers, tell stories of old,
Fingers dance upon its ivory cheeks,
Unveiling secrets in melodies bold.

Shadows stretch as notes fill the air,
A symphony of sorrow and sweet delight,
Each chord a brushstroke of despair,
Painting the canvas of the silent night.

The moonlight bathes the piano’s wooden frame,
Reflecting dreams that linger in the dark,
Every sound, a whisper of a name,
Echoes of love that left a lasting mark.

As dawn approaches, the music fades away,
Leaving behind a memory so clear,
The piano rests, awaiting the day,
When once more, its song we’ll hear.