Ghouls sit quietly in the front row,
Coldness rolls over,
Drizzly weather,
Scent of matthiola and lavender,
The piano shines like precious stones,
Lethargic lighting slowly blinks,
And among sounds as soft as feathers,
Sits a lone instrumentalist.
 
Some scary vampires,
Ugly witchcrafts,
And the ghosts dance in pantaloons.
The stressed musician licks his dry lips,
Surrounded by the noise and laughs.
The sound gets tangled with the glee,
The echo is wild,
The hall is empty,
But at the very end sits... she
 
Nocturnes get louder
calming the stress,
The room gets lighter, her heart softens.
His eyes meet hers in deepest darkness,
She is wearing hopes and a silk dress.
And when he sees her by the door,
Suddenly feels so hugely blessed,
'Cause he's got someone to play for...