Theme Song #21

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Celest, Jul 19, 2012.

  1. Music touches people in different ways. Many people enjoy listening to music for inspiration, and others simply listen to it to relax. Some songs tell stories while others allow you to make your own story.

    Your challenge:

    Listen to the song above then take a minute or two to think about it.

    Write out a scene to this song; make this song your scenes theme song.

    Let me know what you see when you listen to this music.

  2. She held the sword in her hand. Her reflection looked back at her through it. Her long hair fell in loose curls over her shoulders, and her eyes showed the triumph in her soul as she swung the blade down and threw his neck. She watched his head roll like a ball. The of her mouth twitched lightly, she forced herself not to smile.
    "burn the body and use it as fertilizer" She commanded to her new subjects as she made her way to the throne that was now hers. The king was dead, and she was now ruler. The queen.
    She watched a couple servants pull the corpse away, and another take the head. A fourth servant came and got to work cleaning the blood from the marble tiles.
    The queen smiled, ".....the former king is bow to your new queen of red"
  3. There was nothing quite in his life that had prepared him for the journey, despite the numerous and varied challenges he had forced upon his body before. The trail had started with mellow rolling hills that casual joggers might find enjoyable, but they were a small tease of what lay just beyond. After the initial mile, the game had changed as the landscape melted away with the sudden altitude. The seductive hills had lead him to the bottom a small dried stream, filled with olive green leaves that crunched under the smallest of steps. From this point on, there was no choice for him, no desire left in his body but to continue onward. It was after starting the climb up the rock face wall that the strings of life truly began to tug on his heart, every muscle aching out a note that played only for him, a small song of life.

    While the elevation changed, he could not help but feel that so would he after this was all over. Materially, all would be as it was, but he could never perceive the world he had known with the same scope. The cold stone cracks in the cliff face made for good hand holds as he continued his ascent. 50 feet, 100 feet, 200 feet, he had lost count in his head when he looked down, the nauseating realization tightening the air within his lungs. Despite the grievances shouting at him within his skull, his arms and legs moved on. As time flowed on, he faltered only for a moment when he spotted the top. Sweat from his brow strung his eyes as he gleaned skyward at the sun pouring down on him. The final handhold and he could feel the top, when the slate of rock cracked, his weight suddenly shifting egregiously to his left arm in a jolt of pain. Of all he knew and felt, he learned in the last few hours that it wasn't the end, and plucked on that thread of life as he maneuvered his body up and over the top edge of the cliff face, rolling and collapsing onto his back.
  4. The glorious army marched through the streets, the rythm of the soldiers' steps rattling the nearby windows and making the people cover in fear. Each and every individual who made up this magnificent gathering was coated in thin, but modern armour that would protect them from any harm. In the hands of each individual rested a weapon that was capable of tearing through reinforced concrete like a knife would cut through butter. In the mind of each individual was an unshakeable resolve to crush the enemy, to secure victory and to become a hero in the eyes of the public. In the body of each individual was a lifetime of training excercises at work, a lifetime dedicated to mastering the deadliest martial art that was ever invented, a lifetime dedicated to learning how to hit a barely visible target on a lethal spot with using only the naked eye. In other words, the members of this army were true soldiers, people who would look at the Spartans and think that they were weak, pathetic and under-motivated, for they were warriors of the highest degree, who were absolutely dedicated to their profession.

    The pavement of the street was almost trembling under the feet of the army, as were the buildings and the people who watched them march into their city. They have only heard of this army through word of mouth, yet they knew that no matter what their country did, it would be completely unable to do anything against these soldiers. Even though the army was only composed of men and no machines, the insane flame that burned in the soldiers' eyes was enough to shake the very souls of those who looked upon them and make them know that even if their machinery was superior, they were never going to win this war. Not even if they make sacrifices. Not even if they bleed so much blood that the rivers get clogged. Not even if they had a fortress that was invincible, for these soldiers knew that invincible is only a concept that exists in the mind. It is merely an idea that was invented by humans to describe something that can only be overcome with true effort.

    Soon, the army stopped at the city centre, in front of the monument that represented the greatest hero of the city, who had liberated it from its oppressors hundreds of years ago. The statue that once depicted a young man wielding a modern assault rifle and combat still stood proud in the exact centre of the city, as if the hero was still there to protect its citizens from any harm. However, those times when he protected them were long gone, and now, not one citizen dared to stand in front of the army and tell them to stop. Not one soul was brave enough to oppose the soldiers that were known for their unbreakable morale and unstoppable force. Not one hero was born this day, and not one city resisted when the soldiers marched into them and claimed them.
  5. A silhouette of a woman looked down on a dark and ruined city. Her hair was long and black, cascading down her back as she jumped from the building she’d been standing on to the next till she was sitting on the edge of another staring out to the shape of a man doing the exact same thing on the building across from her. Lights dangled from strings along polls, some empty of the lights warm embrace. A smirk spread across her features as she jumped, her hands grasping one of the cold rusted polls void of light, before her the man following her lead.

    Dangling high above the city streets they moved with the agility of a cat as they met in the middle. Their faces closed in as they kissed the man pulling out a knife from the sheath at his back. She was completely entranced by the kiss till she felt the cold metal touch her throat, releasing her life blood onto the unsuspecting pedestrians below. He had killed his mark, she was now falling to the ground, her eyes wide open in shock as he lifted himself up onto the poll and walked away, balancing very carefully till he was to the side she’d been on disappearing into the night.