It was beautiful but instead of saying "Goodbye" I would rather say "Until next time" ^ ^ thanks for sharing the music, I hope you have a beautiful day if you get to read this

A Song for Contemplating Taking One's Own Life?

I wrote a poem years ago, that I figured might be fitting for this melancholic, beautiful piece...

A thought in tender, tender gloom

A thought, in tender, tender gloom,
Half in dark, and half in light,
Sleeps within a gray sky's room,
Broods in dreams of cloudless night,
For ponderous of a poem's bosom,
Dull stars summon their rayless might.

Fleeting moments diminish glorious,
Time takes his dread leisure up again,
But to find the nightly shores uproarious!
Benumbed immortal, if thou can,
Do you see as I see?, are you as curious?,
That all has sprung of darklings since thou began?

What face dost thou possess?, what design?,
What faculties makes tears linger to end as soon?,
Wandering up through murky climes,
A ghost! a ghost!, or t'was the moon?
Mine eyes beheld the deceiver of thy shrines,
And a blink t'was all, to leave twilight alone!

Each cloud above, greatest and small,
Each is but a sleepless hem,
Holding skies to seas' ev'ry rise and fall,
Multitudes discover each mirthful beam,
With windy freedom that sweeps past all,
O, that I should be as them!

©2006 j.krampert

My scenario

A dark, grey sky.
On the dark horizon, there is a hill. The once lush green, grass now dulled by the sky, and atop the jill, stands a manor. Or whats left of it.

The camera pans closer, closer to the ruins of a home. What appears to be a rich home. Here, we see a man. A man who has seen much war, much pain. You can see this by the features that litter his face. One eye, scars, gruff man. He is holding a body? Yes. He's holding it close.

The camera flashes back to a memory of the man.
There he is, in the same destroyed manor, all wonderous, majestic. He is a child now. And above him, stands his father. Almost similar in appearance. Seemingly noble. A mage. And in his eyes? The expectation for him to be one to.

The camera pans to another memory. The boy, crying, walking away from his manor with a sword held high. He is right, he knows it. His father never understood his need for combat. He would leave without telling him. Forever.

War rages. For years, the boy becomes a man, and never once contacts his father.

The camera pans to the present again. The man, now sobbing uncontrolabley over the body he holds. His fathers.

He regrets all those times he could have returned. Apologized. Said goodbye.

And now, he has to say it to the body of his father.

A final chance, to say goodybye.

A Torn Battlefield

It has been a cold night. I wake up deep inside the stone fortress. I here the wind blowing, as though it were the souls of my fallen camrades crying out to be avenged, that the war would end. I here knocking and footsteps as I walk up the winding staircase to the entrance. The sun is not yet over the horizon, but I see the blue glow that precedes it. The land before me is stricken with arrows and bows and cannon balls as well as the dead bodies of both the enemy camp and mine. The cold air flows over my back. I see way in the distance the enemy is already starting to rise, but slowly. I walk quickly back inside and go back down to the barracks. I wake my fellow soliders, "It's time." They slowly rise, get armed for battle and they have a snack before they start to climb up the stairs, towards the entrance once again. I pray that my wife and children will not be harmed by the enemy, whether I return to see them again or not. I too, walk up the stairs to the entrance. We quietly eat our meals while staring at the enemy, knowing that one or the other must die. After that we assemble as well as the enemy camp. We know that this battle may be our last, so we swallow our fear, ready our weapons, and wait for the signal to attack.

The enemy has been defeated, but not without loss. Many comrades have fallen and most of those still alive have injuries on them. I have too many wounds on me to live much longer. I raise my sword in one hand, my gun in the other and in one last breath I cry as loud as I can, "Victory!" Darkness passes over me as I slip away from this world. THIS IS VERY EPIC!

make a scenario ! an awesome idea !

the hush after the ruckus... now, with that knife through his heart he will feel a small portion of my pain... he took all i ever had, all i ever cared about, my reason to continue living in this wretched land: my wife,my family,my children... whirling down these stairs, empowered only by the hopes of seeing them alive, or just a glimpse of them, i reach the dungeons.... "please don't hurt me, feed us to the lions, i beg you, don't hurt me" the poor young woman cried. they are not to be heard of anymore , im here to free you of ur shackles... "u wouldnt know a lady by the name of sarah would you"... "the last time i saw her she was thrown into that cage" pointing at the last one in the row... running through the ruins i reach to the jail... sarah! SARAH! :::: my shouts echoed in the empty room...
she is gone...

OH by the way ! GREAT AMBIENCE ! really put me in the mood ...