Music wins this war

Okay I can already tell I will like this because (and now I quote my life's theme: ) English is only my second language. Music is my first. I have been playing piano for eight years, and since then have picked up about seven other instruments....anyway, to the review!

through the grim-coated windows.

a dusty, crippled piano.

dismayed at the lack of protection from
the withering sun.

Its pure white complexion
In ruined, tanned

Unperturbed, for time is but a little concern
to one who’s life depends upon it.

Hey
I enjoyed the poem from start to finish, your descriptions were brilliant, I could really picture this in my minds eye. Yet in terms of poetry i felt that your rhytm was there, yet the rhyme was not, and many a time the rhythm itslef was lost. It rally was a great read, just with minor faults I fell in terms of poetry, but then again I love poems with rhyme and rhythm ever present. The length could be shortened as many readers may find it tedious, but personally it held my attention throughout. All I can suggest is to try working on the poetic relevance of the poem. keep writing and review this poem, because I see it as being a great one with tweaks in the right areas.
ToLy

What a splendid poem! I truly enjoyed reading it. I really didn't care that it was long, I just kept reading it because the poem just kept my interest for so long. I was just so interested in reading it because of the vivid details and vocabulary! I must say, you are extremely talented! I am so glad you 'recreated' this poem! I truly love the imagery and the words you used. For example,

"Pale sunlight struggles to glimmer
through the grim-coated windows.
Those tall, elegant windows,
once so beautiful in their simplistic design."

I really liked how you described the windows, the sunlight, and how the sunlight struggled to glimmer. Another example is,

"The paper is tearing at the corners,
dismayed at the lack of protection from
the withering sun. Its pure white complexion
In ruined, tanned; left with old coffee stains."

This one also shows the vivid vocabulary and imagery you used. However, I noticed you wrote "in ruined". I think you should change it to in ruin. Just one minor adjustment.

Also, I really liked the message in the poem, which, to me, is if you come into a room and use it after it has collected dust and become old, then it will become lively again for the first time in a long time. Maybe, I'm a bit off or really off on the message in the poem, but that's what the message is to me. I definitely urge you to keep writing poetry!

I really like this poem. Its dramatic and was crafted very well. There are no changes that I would make in this poem, I like it the way it is. It really left a lasting affect on me, and I will probably be thinking about this poem for quite sometime. It has actually gifted me with quite a bit of musical inspiration and I thank you for that as well. Bravo.

An ancient piano rests silently
in its forgotten memory. The way this is worded is a little weird...
The room deserted for decades. I think this could be put a little more poetically. It just lacks rhythm.

Pale sunlight struggles to glimmer
through the grim-coated windows.
Those tall, elegant windows,
once so beautiful in their simplistic design. This paragraph was a lot better.

Dark oak windowsills are cloaked in
layers of yellowed, frayed curtains,
Once stunning in their lacy lengths.

Enough light is gleaned to shadow
the sole object of the place;
a dusty, crippled piano.
Its keys are stained, the pearly whiteness faded.

The black glossiness coated in filth,
the fantastic grandeur diminished.
Once the grandest sight, it sat in its royal kingliness.

A sheet of music rests tenderly
on the weary instrument.
Weary from long years of painful silence.

The paper is tearing at the corners,
dismayed at the lack of protection from
the withering sun. Its pure white complexion
In ruined, tanned; left with old coffee stains.

A gentle old clock hangs from the cracking walls,
unperturbed by the lack of company.
Unperturbed, for time is but a little concern
to one who’s life depends upon it. I like this stanza.

A wooden chair stands quietly by
the rough-hewn desk,
which waits for a coat of polish.
Waits at the long-shut door.

Everything sits in continuous monotony.
Monotony that drags on forever.
For what else can they do?

The door creaks!
Its rusty hinges give ready protest.
All wait in foreboding quiet,
wait for the visitor to leave.
“This door is jammed.”

But no…
in steps a girl.
She makes her way to the forlorn piano,
footsteps thudding heavily.
With each step, dust particles rise in a furious frenzy.

The groaning floorboards complain
over the unwelcome use.
Unwelcome, for who should like to be stood upon?

The weight continues to slam down
till she reaches the piano bench,
forgotten till now in his master's shadow.

With a slender hand she pulls it out,
and sits, unmindful of the dirt.
Elegant fingers stroke the keys lovingly,
A caress, before she begins to play.

With the first sound, tinny banging fills the air.
Fills the air, ends the silence.
The long cold reign of silence.

She continues to play, the notes softening.
Yellow departs from the keys,
dust slowly disappears, clean and bright the room becomes.
With sweet echoes resounding.

With each note, each key pressed,
The room regains its splendor.

The tinny piano, long forgotten,
Sings now in melodious praise.
Praise to the girl who killed the silence.

Adoration is evident in the very tones of the instrument.
For unearthly music spills forth.
Beautiful notes dance in the air…

from now unto forever... Interesting ending.