In the quiet of the night, a guitar softly weeps,
Its strings whisper tales of love and loss,
Melodies float like dreams in the dark,
Echoes of memories that time cannot gloss.

Fingers dance upon the frets with grace,
Each note a story, each chord a sigh,
Through wood and wire, emotions embrace,
The heart’s hidden secrets, they cannot lie.

The guitar’s voice, a language unspoken,
Resonates deep within the soul’s core,
With every strum, a bond unbroken,
Binding hearts forevermore.

As dawn approaches, the music fades,
Yet the essence lingers in the air,
A silent promise, never to wane,
In the guitar’s song, we find our share.