In gilded halls where whispers play,
The strings and keys begin to sway,
A timeless dance of sound and grace,
Classical music finds its space.

With every note, a tale unfolds,
Of love, of loss, of hearts grown cold,
The maestro guides with gentle hand,
A journey through a sonorous land.

The violins weep, the cellos sigh,
The flutes take flight into the sky,
Each instrument in harmony,
Creates a world for souls to see.

So let the music fill the night,
With echoes pure and notes so bright,
For in each chord, a story lies,
And classical music never dies.