Playing freely the ivory keys
bringing out a sad little tune,
a nocturne whispers sorrowfully
a lullaby known for its gloom.
This melody laughs without worry,
or fear of the great unknown,
but soulfully continues on its way
perhaps sadistically to those who woe.
Black and white, the notes do move
with a tiny, precious smile,
awaiting loudly the crescendo,
that will not appear for a while.
A ballad of scales shrills upwards
to reach a high little place,
that few can meet, but most do want,
valiantly keep trying to make.
So be sweet my little hymn,
it is but a eulogy to a love now gone,
an echo of a past symphony
and melancholy to what, once was.