Next Project involves...

Chopin: Prelude in E minor, Op. 28 No. 4

Garry Schyman: Cohen's Masterpiece

Saint-Saëns: Carnival Of The Animals - Aquarium

List to grow possibly. Not saying what the project is yet... Discuss if you wish.

Something I Made

3 Words

Death asked for Love.
She wasn't home.
Her beauty went out for the evening
To bathe in the adoration of another.
Death sits on her front steps,
Twiddling thumbs and gnawing gums.
Death will wait for her.
Her gorgeous gaze
His waning ways

Pale pink and peeling,
Love's painted porch
Houses Death's fading breath
So help his heavy head,
May not even Death die alone.

The Boy Who Couldn't Go To Sleep

There was a boy; A shepherd who lived and tended to his flock on the hills outside of the city of Sleep. Each night, he'd sit and stare into the town and wish he was there. He never wanted to be a shepherd, He only wished to participate in the festivals that occured in the Dream district. From his grassy knoll, He could see the masquerade take flight throughout the night with all the attendants leaping onto the clouds and back. Games were played where the each guest would see who could reach the furthest star or who could concoct the queerest creature. But, the boy was left to shear the sheep whose fleece composed the clouds on which they partook. He always fantasized of leaving the green for the city, but the Night Mare roamed outside of Sleep, scaring all unwelcomed visitors off. the Night Mare was a large white horse, whose mane burned bright like the sun's reflection off the sea and whose hooves caused typhoons to shudder... and the boy feared her.

The city of Sleep rested on a sea, bobbing up and down as the party continued throughout the night. The boy always wished to go their, but the Night Mare wandered on top of the sea as a guardian, protecting it from harm. The shepherd boy once took his boat across the gap to enter Sleep. But soon after setting sail, the ocean began to roll as the Night Mare came, charging at the boat and roaring into existence a tsunami that went to meet the boy. He tried to row to shore, but the wave threw him back to the hills outside of the city where he still sits. As the boy watched on, his absence from the masquerade caught her eye. She saw him sitting on the hills outside and was curious as to why he would not join. She asked her friend, a flying puffer fish as large and pale blue as the moon, if she may meet the boy. "Of course you may, child," She said to the girl, "I will take you to him." So, the puffer fish moon fashioned for the girl a basket and invited her in. The shepherd boy witnessed all of this and gazed into the sky in awe as the Moon brought the girl from across the sea, undisturbed by the Night Mare below, a beautiful girl who blurred the city lights and glistened brighter than any star in sight. The Moon gently landed the basket on the grass next to him and she stepped out to meet him. Her speech was soft and comforting like the fleece of his flock, and she spoke to him.

"Hello."

That one word from the star in a basket enchanted the boy, and all he could stutter was something similar to "hello".
"What's your name?" the girl asked.
He paused for a moment and replied, "I don't know. I've never been called anything but a shepherd and a foolish boy. I have no name."
"What?" she exclaimed, "How can you have no name?" The girl looked into the boy's eyes, searching for something. The boy has only felt the Night Mare's gaze enter that deep before, but it didn't seem to bother him that she was looking so intently. He felt her close the door to his soul as she spoke quite directly to him, "Peter. Your name is Peter."
He loved the name. "How do you know?" Peter asked.
The girl smiled and said, "Everyone has a name. I just took the time to find it."
Peter couldn't help but blush at the friendly nature of the girl and he asked her, "What's your name?"
"My name is Sariah."
"What a beautiful name."
Sariah smiled, "Thank you." She looked to the sky as the night began to fade and turned to Peter. "I must be going now," she said, "I must be in Sleep before day breaks." She turned to the Moon and entered the basket.
As the Moon began to float away to the city, Peter shouted to her, "Will I speak with you again?"
She smiled.
During the day, Peter dreamed of the night time, where Sariah would come from across the ocean and speak with him about everything from the carnivals of Sleep to all the games the shepherd boy played with his sheep. Sleep had only it's festivities to enjoy and each night was much like the last, but Peter found it fascinating. and Peter's games mostly involved different forms of counting the flock or shapes of clouds Peter would shave from their wool, but Sariah found it fascinating. Every night, she came with the Moon as her guide. The Night Mare still wandered the gap between the hills and Sleep, but never bothered Sariah's voyage. It was after weeks of them meeting, each one starting minutes sooner than the previous, that the Night Mare began to question whether the Moon was allowed to bring the beautiful girl to the foolish boy. The Night Mare grew more and more jealous of the boy and the love he had found until she, alone on the sea, couldn't bear it anymore.

Peter and Sariah had fallen in love. They would rather die than deny it, and that was their downfall. Every night, Sariah had the Moon bring her to him in a basket held by a string and every night was more of a fantasy than the previous. But, this upset the Night Mare. She was a guardian, a keeper of the sea and destined to strike fear into all that she encountered. She was alone, and the foolish boy was not. She grew bitter of his companionship and she could not stand it anymore. So, one night, just the same as the others, Sariah was led by the Moon to the boy, and Peter could not wait to see the girl. As she crossed the sea, the Night Mare took extra interest her journey. She would not let the girl see Peter tonight. The Night Mare cried in anguish, and the sky cried with her, too. The rain began to pour and the wind began to howl. The Moon struggled through the storm to bring her friend to her love, but the Night Mare's spite was too strong for the string that held the basket and the girl. The thread snapped, the basket fell, and Sariah came too. She landed in the ocean and the basket kept her a float, but Sariah was afraid that she would be condemned to death for troubling the Night Mare, and the Night Mare was planning that very act. It was one thing for happiness to exist in Sleep, but the Night Mare couldn't bear to be tormented with love outside of it's walls. The Night Mare approached Sariah, and Peter saw all this from his hill. He was overcome with anger as he watched the one he feared capture the one he loved. He ran to his boat on the shore, and the Night Mare watched as Peter went out to meet her.

He paddled feverishly toward the basket on the sea. Peter had been alone all his life left to dream in a land deserted of visions. The girl that found his name within his soul sat within her basket in fear, surrounded by water and a white horse. Peter neared the Night Mare, who stood strong between the lovers, watching the foolish boy. Peter rowed until he had gotten close enough that he could hear Sariah shouting, "Save me..." The Night Mare glared at Sariah in jealous hate, then returned her gaze to the shepherd boy. She reared her legs into the air, roaring with a passion she'd never felt before. It made the clouds tremble and the party stutter. Guests began to look on as the Night Mare, their guardian, grew ravenous and malicious toward the boy. Her legs landed on the surface of the sea, and it's impact caused waves to form.

Peter kept rowing.

This insolence upset the Night Mare, and she charged the boy. Peter stopped rowing and this helped the Night Mare believe that she had bested him. But, as she went to finish him, Peter lept out of the boat and mounted the horse, holding tightly to her mane. The Night Mare ran across the sea, bucking and rearing, trying to shake the boy off, but he wouldn't let go. In a desperate attempt, she dove into the sea, gliding so gracefully through the clear blue water. She filled her dive with twists and turns that even dolphins found daunting, but as she turned back, the boy remained. Peter would not let go. The Night Mare could not take it anymore. She lunged out of the ocean's surface, flying briefly through the air, and landed on the top of the sea. The boy was exhausted, but continued to grip her mane tightly. The Night Mare spoke and her words reverberated off the clouds above.

"You Foolish Boy! Will you not fear me?"
Peter gasped for air and with what little strength he had replied to the Night Mare, "In the name of Love, I will not fear you..."
The Night Mare had been defeated. She could do nothing to keep the two lovers apart. She said nothing in response. The beautiful white horse merely trotted to the basket and beckoned Sariah onto her back. Sariah respectfully joined Peter on the horse's back, and the Night Mare walked the lovers to the city gates of Sleep, where they joined in festivities. Peter had to take care of his flocks, so he could not live in Sleep like the rest of it's occupants, but he participated in the masquerade that took place in the Dream District. As the night ended, Peter and Sariah thanked everyone for the grand evening, boarded the boat and rowed back to the hills on the opposite side of the sea. They rowed past the Night Mare, who laid on the waters surface and did not bother the boy and girl. And from that day on, Peter and Sariah lived in each other's company, day and night. And whether they went to the city of Sleep by Moon or by sea, the Night Mare did not haunt them, for Love had defeated Fear that night.

The End

The Boy Who Wanted To Be King Arthur

Once in the town of Canterbury, there was a boy name William. William always wanted to be like the great King Arthur for he heard many tales of his courage and strength throughout the town. His home was mere steps away from where the king would help his foster-brother, Kay, train for the tournaments. William would pretend that he was destined for such greatness, pretending to pull sticks from the stone where the sword used to sit. But all of the other children mocked him, saying things such as, “There can only be one king, and that is King Arthur.” and “You have a better chance becoming a forest fairy!” After much abuse, the young boy left Canterbury and headed for the forests, seeking solitude from his the reproach of his peers.

It was at about this time that the jester of the fairies was banished from the kingdom for he was a mischievous fairy and the Fairy King could no longer tolerate his foolishness. It was as this fairy was leaving that he heard the William crying. The fairy headed towards the tears and saw the boy curled up, hiding under a tree. “What is wrong boy?” the fairy asked.

“I will never be as great as King Arthur.” William replied, trying to dry his eyes. It was in that moment that fairy knew exactly what he would do as an impish grin spread across his face.

“Ah, but my dear boy,” the fairy exclaimed, “That is why I am here! I heard your tears in the wood and came to grant you a wish on behalf of the Fairy King, who took pity on you.” This news excited the boy as he had never met a fairy before and that his fantasies were finally to come true.

“Really?” William asked. He stood up and faced the fairy eagerly and asked “What must I do in order to be granted my request?”

The fairy hopped around as he was thrilled to have a naïve and foolish boy to play games with. “Come follow me! We must make haste for the lake!” he shouted as he dashed away from William. He quickly followed behind him. The jester was much more nimble than William, but he was able to keep up with the fairy. The fairy stopped right before the clearing that was near the lake. When William reached the fairy, He saw an old man and a strong, young knight standing before the lake. A beautiful maiden was in the water, beckoning the knight into the water. Most confusing to William was an arm extended above the water out in the middle of the lake. In its grasp was a glistening blade. William turned the fairy and asked, “So, how can I become King Arthur?”

The fairy replied rather agitatedly, “Watch carefully!” William looked back to see the knight in a barge heading toward the arm. The knight reached out to the blade and as soon as it was in his grasp, the arm disappeared. That is when the fairy whispered to William, “You must go to the arm in the lake and fetch from it one of those swords, and then you will be as renown as King Arthur.” William was frightened by this proposal, but he felt courage overcome him. He thought this is how King Arthur must feel as he embarks on quests. After all the people had disappeared from the lake, the boy walked toward the barge that remained banked on the shore. As he stepped in the boat, he turned to the fairy and asked, “Why will you not come with me?”

“I wish I could, my boy,” the jester moaned deceptively, “But this is a quest appointed to you, and I must not go for the sake of your request.” As William made his way to the center of the lake, the jester of fairies giggled maliciously at the misfortune that was about to unfold.

William was in the middle of the lake, but no sword would appear, nor would the hand that held it before. He called to the fairy at the shore, “What must I do to summon the sword?”

The fairy shouted back to the boy, “Call to the Wench of the Water and demand for the sword, Excalibur.” The fairy could very faintly be heard laughing at the naivety of the boy in the barge.

William leaned over the barge, not believing what he was about to call the fair maiden, and shouted, “Wench of the Water! I demand for th…”

The arm shot out of the water, grabbed the back of Williams head, and retracted back to the depths, thrusting William out of the barge and into the lake. The Jester was hysterically euphoric at the mischief he caused and retreated back to the woods to find other foolish children to trick.

William sank to the bottom of the lake, held tightly by the arm that seemed to have no end. As William floated in the water, the Lady of the Lake flew at the boy like a banshee of the night and shouted in a rage rarely seen, “You foolish child! How dare you enter my domain in such a manner? I am the Lady of the Lake, ruler of these waters, and you call my name in such an insolent tongue nothing better than a whore? And you command me to do your biding, pleading for the sword Excalibur that is mine and mine alone? I do not even have it in my possession, for King Arthur, a brave and favorable knight, asked graciously for it. You deserve nothing but death, you wicked boy!”

“I’m sorry, my lady!” William cried. “I did not know what I was doing, I only wished for the sword Excalibur for I pray to be as renown as that same great knight, King Arthur.”

The Lady of the Lake sat in silence, searching for the proper judgment for the boy, and then spoke softly saying, “You shall have the sword Excalibur when King Arthur returns it to me. But do not think yourself so easily excused of your folly. For someone must keep the sword safe.” She then spoke to the hand and said “John, I grant you leave of your position. Finish your life fruitfully.” The grip on William lessened as he turned around to find an old man floating behind him. He swam to the surface escaping the prison he was held in. the Lady of the Lake turned back to William saying, “Now, you shall be granted the role as the bearer of the sword Excalibur.”

It was in that lake that William stayed, waiting for the return of what he longed for, the renown of King Arthur and the sword, Excalibur. He is forever a prisoner and servant of the Lady of the Lake, but was the happiest in his lifetime the day Sir Bedivere threw the sword into the prison cell.

The End

*Writer's Note- I apologize for not sharing much lately. I've been working on music and stageplays more so lately. I wrote this a bit ago for my history class. I picked a hole within the lore and filled it. Call it fan fiction. I didn't intend to share it, but you deserve better care for your attention. Forgive me.*

Don't Let Me Forget...

Unanticipatable.

Consequently, don't you forget either. You will see each other again, trust me...

I'll ellaborate and explain later...

A metal kite with steel cable string

Can fly from a hurricane breeze.