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Notes to Nocturne

a poem by Vidya Vijay

When the antique organ is played,
The crowd they don’t hooray.
Instead they show their say,
In a more subtle way.

Beethoven touched those keys,
He showed us what he means.
His music left us keen,
to hear his symphony.

But, oh the great mozart,
His music was like a tart.
Sweet and short, tied up in a knot.
But still, no one could defeat.

In reality they fight,
Both the black and white.
But in music they unite,
Creating melody just as bright.