The master\'s stroke,
The swift striking of a key,
Resonates throughout the vessel
Of poetic music made tonight.
Who will hear the tune,
Who will listen to its call
To delve deep into the aged heart
And extract the maestro\'s soul.
Everyone wants a piece,
To dine with the genius
Of the one who makes true music
Like the whisping winter winds.
The icy chiming strokes
Of fingers upon ivory keys
Beckons forth the ghostly presence
Of death\'s intoxicating rattle.