Creative Writing to Music

[Rosesong]

I wasn't really sure where to put this... So I chose here. We all love music, but what do songs evoke within us when we hear them? Do they tell us stories? I don't know about anyone else, but I hear stories being told within music, and never get to tell them. That's why I've decided to write down what the song says to me. I'd also like to invite anyone else that would like to write here to do so.

In order to really understand how the song and story fit, I would suggest listening to the song first in order to get a sense of it, then read the story, and if you can get it to match up, read the story while the music plays.

The Inspiration: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_r2jqib5EXU

The Story:

The skies are dark as you run through an open field. You just want to get away from everything-- the pain and sorrow, the constant arguments that you have with your loved ones who don't realize how insignificant they've made you feel. Their words still sting you like a slap in the face would. As you run, you wish you could end it all, and never have to worry about feeling unhappy again. Never again having to worry about that feeling of not belonging or not being good enough. A haze of pain clouds over in your eyes, as you keep running, hoping to outrun the demons that haunt your every step.

Rain begins to pour as you run harder, finally slowing to a stop at your destination-- a drop off. You stand there, just looking over the edge and trying to decide if it would be worth it, heart pounding wildly. Nothing makes sense anymore, all logic and reasoning blocked by isolation, anger, and sadness. Your thoughts are filled with negativity, and you begin to find it hard to breathe. Just as you decide to slowly place one foot into the air off the ledge, a sensation breaks through the wall of hate that's encompassed you and fills you with a feeling you'd just about forgotten. Hope. A memory begins to play through your mind as you take a seat at the edge of the ledge, reveling in this forgotten, familiar feeling.

You're sitting in a circle with your friends. Each is laughing and telling jokes, and you feel included and content, laughing along with them and enjoying yourself. The atmosphere is warm and bright, and the wall of hate starts to slowly fade from around you. More memories flash by. A favorite birthday from when you were younger. The joys of learning to ride a bike for the first time. Playing catch with your family on a sunny day. As the memories come quicker and quicker, the pain disappears from your eyes, to be replaced with one of comfort. The barrier that had surrounded you was gone, replaced by one of deep love. Looking up, you see that the rain has stopped, and the clouds are slowly starting to disperse. Getting up, you turn around, able to face the demons that had chased you with more confidence than you had possessed in a long time. A small, genuine smile grows on your face for the first time in a long time as you slowly walk back the way you came. The clouds part to allow a single ray of sun to shine on your face, and for the first time, you are able to tell yourself that everything will be okay. That you are strong, and always will be as long as you remember to hope, believe, and breathe.

[Sutoratosu]

I have something similar, though with me it tends to happen when I see certain images. Mind if I put some on this thread? I know it's supposed to be music based, but...

[Rosesong]

As long as you give a link to the visual reference, why not?

[Pyon Pyon Kyuu!~]

That's cool, I used to this in class. Our Portuguese teacher encouraged us to combine our musical talents with her class and asked us to write a story based on a song she gave us. It was an interesting exercise.

[Sutoratosu]

Le Picture:

(URL: http://digital-art-gallery.com/picture/466 )

Some music to go with it... noticing a theme?

There's some hidden meanings in the story below. see if you can find them...

SNOW

It's snowing again. It's always snowing... always so cold and desolate. That's all the words you need to describe the world now... though, words probably won't be around much longer... not when I'm finally gone.

My name is Alec Rain... and I'm probably the last man on Earth.

It wasn't always like this. Life used to be good. Foot-ball games, a steady job with generous pay, a low rent...even a wife with a new baby girl on the way. But then the Winter came...It was like a frozen hell. So much snow... it just kept falling. It wouldn't stop... it even fell so hard that it blocked the sun.

For me, the world used to be safe. It used to be a place where you didn't have to worry, a place where if you clung to something you believed in, it was because you wanted to, not because if you didn't, you wouldn't be able to keep yourself going at all. I don't know what I cling to anymore. Hope? No... God? No... I tried hanging on to hope once. when my wife passed... I still had a part of her... I still had my little girl in my arms. Back then I clung to hope like there was no tomorrow, clung to it so much that I even named her for it. As long as Hope was alive, I'd live as well. But I was a fool. I thought things could get better, thought that maybe, just maybe, there was a God out there...

But I was wrong.

There came a day when I learned that there was no God... when I learned that mercy was a lie.

And that was the day that Hope died.

I don't know why I keep going anymore. I don't know why I haven't turned the gun in my hands on myself. My legs simply keep moving, one in front of the other. I don't know how many miles I've walked now. I don't know how many days have passed. I don't bother keeping track of those things anymore. I don't care about those things anymore. All I do is keep trudging along the roads.

All I do is wander. I can't stop. I don't know why. The only thing I do know anymore... is that I can't stop. I can't end it. I've already tried... and every time I do, There's always something in the back of my mind, telling me not to give up... her voice...

and every time, she would say only one thing to me.

and that thing was this...

"Hope only dies with you, daddy."

Edited August 21, 2014 by Stratos

[Zephyrus the Priestess]

Oh, this is a pretty interesting topic. Maybe I'll put mine up soon.

Idk, sometimes I listen to music and make my own movie or something to go with it.

[Snap Crackle Pop]

I've got some songs in mind, mwhaha.

[Rosesong]

Ok, so the group I will frequently reference when writing from songs is Two Steps from Hell. I just love the music that they produce.

The Inspiration:

The Story:

An elderly doe slowly limps into a forest clearing. The cold seasons have not been kind to her, and she falls in the clearing as her strength fails her.

Movement begins to occur from within the trees, creating a rustling as soft as the wind. A tiny, winged nymph flies out slowly from the cover of the trees, approaching the unmoving creature. Soon more nymphs follow the first, some bringing instruments with them. The first nymph stays close to the doe, gently pressing its hands to the animal's heart. As it looks up, it shakes its head sadly to those that can see it, and they repeat the action. The stirring slows to a still, and then it begins.

Those that have instruments play them, while those that do not sing along. The first nymph begins to summon birds to bring flowers, and they too add their voices to the song of the nymphs. The birds lay the flowers by the doe, arranging a beautiful wreath to shrine the elderly animal. They then flock to the trees, preparing themselves for the ceremony. The head nymph holds up a hand, and all the music stops except for a lone nymph.

As the nymph continues to play, several nymphs fly out of the crowd and circle the doe. They close their eyes and begin moving in circular, weaving patterns. While they dance, the doe's body begins to look younger, glowing a faint white. The deer's body grows smaller and the glow grows brighter, eventually becoming a small, luminescent ball of light. The nymph that appeared first takes the ball and gently presses it into the ground, returning the spirit of the doe and her life energy to the earth. It then lifts its head with tears sparkling in its eyes.

As it does this, the other nymphs begin to play again, with those singing joining in on the dancing, the ceremony turning to one of a celebration of life. All move lightly, swaying as though they are but leaves drifting in the wind or a stream. The birds fly low, singing their verse in the song once more before departing. The nymphs then begin to depart to the trees, each moving quickly across the ground. It seems like the wind has picked up, but it is gone just as quickly as it had come. In the middle of the pasture is the nymph that had first come out. It looks around slowly, a smile coming to its face, before gently flying back to its tree.

A young fawn makes her way into the clearing and starts to graze. Life will continue on.

[Notus]

Ok, I'll give it a try, it's been much time since I wrote something short. The song is Romance, by Yuki Kajiura, part of the soundtrack of the anime Noir and a personal favourite of mine.

That day the sun burned overwhelmigly hot in the sky, but even then the plaza was filled with people. Not that it was that big a place after all: it was a circle of compacted earth in the middle of the village, simple and practical. It could be a market place in fair days, a dancing floor in festivities or, as it was today, an improvised bullring.

News had spread through the town like wild-fire. Was it true, did that boy come back? No not a boy, he should be a grown man now. "I heard of him." Someone said in the crowd. "Looks like he's a professional Matador now, one of the best in the country."

"Wait, what? Who'd have thought he would become this after what happened..."

Why had the boy come back? This village should only bring him bad memories...

"Ha, I know!" Another man boasted. "Obviously he's here to get his revenge! Why else to ask for the bullring to be made ready?"

"Wait, isn't that bull dead by now?"

"Yeah, but it's calf is still alive. You must have seen it in André's farm, it's a monster of a black bull now..."

In the middle of the plaza, now surrounded by a hastily set wooden fence, and oblivious to all the talk concerning his person, a young man stood. He was tall and lean, with an athletic body, with coal black hair and deep black eyes, and wore a bright blue garment embroided with golden patterns. Over his shoulder, a blood red mantle rested waiting for the time to be used.

This young man had lived in this town once, and used to know all of the people there. Mostly everyone he saw was still the same, and even though the years had taken some and brought up a few others, those were few enough as to make no difference.

Most of them had been there in the day his father was impaled by the black bull.

It had been an accident, for sure. The bull, a huge beast that lived in the wild, had been captured a few days before and, as they tried to mark it, went berserk and managed to break the fence, running straight towards the kid playing in the farm's orchard.

His father, a worker on the farm, tried to save him from the rampaging monster and got in the way. It worked, but at too high a cost.

And now there they were. He, the son of the brave man who sacrificed himself, and it, the offspring of the black monster, ready to face each other.

The bull finally arrived, inside of a truck, and not in the best of the moods judging by the crashing noises coming from over there. People all around started towards the fence, eager to see the upcoming clash, while a man stood over it announcing the Torada for all the town. Moments passed. A whistle sounded, making the crowd quiet. Music started.

And the truck's door opened.

Calling that bull a monster wasn't enough to make it justice. The young man knew only by looking at it that this would be the fight of his life. It was as big as the biggest bulls he had ever faced, but still too young for all that size, meaning it would have even more energy than the regular ones. It's shiny black fur was already stained by the red of blood, indicating that someone had already been kind enough to provoke it into rage.

It took a moment to get it's bearings after getting out of the truck,and then locked his eyes in the Matador with an intesity rarely seen in any animal. Without further consideration, it lowered it's head and charged.

The bull was fast, but the man was even faster. He dodged charge after charge with fluid movements and an outstanding grace, luring the black with his crimsom mantle and spinning out of the way on the very last moment. The bull, however didn't show any signs of fatigue and seemed to be completely focused on it's opponent, as if this moment was as important to it as it was to the man. They kept going, seeming to perform a lethal dance in stead of a proper fight, every movement on the edge, every turn perfectly in sync, as if both were meant for doing this.

Finally the young man's years of training started to show it's results though. He's resistance was unnatural, result of a sheer ammount of time invested in doing this, while the bull - with all it's impressive vitality - had been raised in a more careless way. It started to take longer between the charges, visibly tired, and to be more and more reckless in it's attacks. The man expected for it to come right in his direction a little slower than it was before and then, for the surprise of the crowd, he hopped on it's back and passed his arms around it's neck, holding as tight as he could.

The bull tried it's best to shake him off, and for more than one occasion the townsfolk held their breath, certain that the man would be thrown to the floor. But no, somehow he managed to stay in. The bull, already getting tired, sliped a bit and for a fraction of a second lost it's balance. The Matador didn't let the opportunity go to waste, and with a vigorous movement of his body, pulled the beast to the ground.

In a swift motion, he tied his cape over it's eyes and got up. The black monster, tired and blindfolded, stood where it was, panting. The man slowly drew his saber from the scabbard, pointing it towards the fallen animal, in a mix of emotions that no one could hope to decypher. Silence fell over the plaza.

Then, with a scream that could almost be called a roar, he planted the blade on the ground in front of the bull.

As the animal's handlers came to take it back to the truck he walked out of the bullring, never stopping to see the astonished faces of the audience. No one knew exactly why he spared the bull, and this stands to the day as one of the little misteries of the town. And so it will probably be until someone decide to ask the man. It's not a difficult task after all, since he now comes often to the village, always fighting the bull in a day and taking care of it in the next, spending the nights in the open beside it, before once again going away to lead his life.

Note: ((I wrote that hella late in the night, so please forgive any mistakes on my part))