You're officially my new hero!
You're my hero, Can't get enough of your submissions! At first, PLEASE send me a small pm when your newest submission comes out, I thank you once, for reading this review, And I thank you once, for every submission you've entered
Cheers, The-Fallen-1
And I thank you for every submission you've listened to Dennis. I hope they bring you joy and entertainment, as that is what they are meant to do!
Thank you kindly for the review, i'm glad you liked it!
You have once again made a masterpeice maestro
The mournful melody makes me think of a dying patient on a strecher being rushed to the ER. At first it's the patient's thoughts. Every second feel like forever as they remember their mistakes and good deeds. And as the song speeds up it's the hospital staff trying to save the patiant, where every second counts but the go by so fast. Then the slow back down is the patient dying. And then the family mourning with the little bell sounds. Oh, and sorry about commenting on your really early works, but I've really just started looking at the classical section of the audio portal.
by no means do I mind you commenting on my early works! I brings me joy knowing they are still appreciated and listened to. The early works are very sentimental to me.
Your story is one I could see happening well. It is definitely the case where being near death amplifies the events of ones life so many times. Everything that was taken for granted, suddenly has meanings that were beyond them before.
Thank you for the review, i'm glad you liked it!
Burden of the Clock
A man waits outside the room, making his endless pace across his undecided pattern. Knowing not the tortures his wife is going through. He lights up his thirty-third cigarette. The clock on the room plays with his mind... it tells him his worries and doesn't help satisfy his emotional pain. The tick of the sound begins to make him tick in his steps, as the steps and tick are in sync with each other it makes the man more worried as insane, his mind slips slowly. The doctor busts through the door and bears the news upon the man. Life has been born again, a miracle seen in a room of science. A baby girl. The man enters and sees his wife holding his new daughter. He holds his wife and gazes upon his new daughter; a tear falls from his eye with more in line. Happiness through tears is a favorite emotion, but the clock was unjust and will still be unjust, although the man does not know this yet.
Did you put the tick in there for every single second? Because that's what I'm hearing and that was the inspiration I got for the story you have read above. I do indeed wish for you to continue your superb work. The melodies and ticks of seconds showing no matter how the melodies change in your life, time will keep pressing onward.
What an excellent story TGO... truly the burden of the clock here is phenomenal. The clock is always there, through bad or good, through pain or pleasure, it always keeps going. It may only stop as a means of going on is refused it, but even if one clock stops, there is an infinite number more then keep going.
To be fair, this is not just a ticking of a clock, it is also dbl bass string slaps. Which gave my clock's tick a more "old school" flavor, which is what I wanted. I also did not record each tick, I recorded to be honest, like 10 seconds worth.
Cutting those seconds up, I then put them to play with the tempo in time.
I am glad you found it inspiring enough to write a story, thank you for that, and the review! I'm glad you liked it!
Amazing, as always
Another wonderful piece, Maestro. This one reminds me of the work of Jeremy Soule (Elder Scrolls III - Morrowind). The 60 bpm makes it very addictive. I'm especially fond of the music box-esque ending.
A Timeless Love
by: raven richardson
"our hearts will continue to beat a rhythm with time, therefore we'll always have forever." she said. "have faith...& come home to me..."
3 springs have passed since she's spoken those words. She would watch from the big elm by the lake, everyday, for her soldier to return. Hour by hour. Day by day. "...come home to me...". As she laid herself down at night she would say "have faith my love, i'll see you tomorrow."
While waiting by the elm one day a man was walking up the dirt road. Ecstatic for it to be her love, she ran to be in his arms only to discover that he was an older man. One she has never seen before. As they greeted each other the older man bowed his head in respect & handed her a medal of honor. Tears filled her eyes as he softly said, "he was a brother to many, but most importantly, a son to me."
From then on she wasted her days shooting whiskey in the kitchen while staring out upon the big elm tree. Her family worried but unable to reach her & her spirit broken, she finally got the strength to once again walk to the big elm. She leaned against it crying & swearing the heavens above about this uncalled for deed. "i'm sorry, but i can't go on...there must be a way to stop...time..." she cried. She pulled a small pistol from her dress placing it to her heart.
A silver car pulled up in the drive way. 3 men let themselves out, but one in particular noticed the elm tree. He smiled as he briskly walked up to the house and knocked upon the door. A familiar face answered in surprise. Her younger sister. "You're alive?" the sister said in shock. "yes, and where is your sister? I wish to make her my wife." The sister shook her head in disbelief. "You're supposed to be dead. She left to be with you." "I don't understand..." he said. "She shot herself under the elm tree not long ago." she said looking down.
The lover starred at her, & knew she wasn't lying for her tears falling were proof enough. He looked down "i"m sorry." He walked away from the house towards the elm tree. The younger sister just watched. His two friends called for him as they watched him walk to the tree. Placing a hand upon the trunk he softly whispered, "i'm sorry, but i can't go on." He pulled out his gun & placed it to his heart.
they say, if the breeze is right, every spring when the flowers bloom. You can see them under the big elm, in each others arms. Don't feel sorry for them. They are now together, trapped in the endless rhythm of time.
::How the lover returned; During the war he was trapped behind enemy lines and the only way to get out was to completely lose his identity. He exchanged his uniforms with an unidentifiable dead enemy soldier, in order to survive & obviously got out. However a fellow soldier brought his "body" back to base camp causing the news of his death to reach back home to his love. Mistaken identity basically & with the time frame i thought this in there was no other way to identify a soldier other than the dog tags. It's a stretch i know, but it's a set up for a good story. you can't deny it =]::
[this story is completely fictional written by me on the spot]
Please tell me what you think ^.^
It's a very well written story, and for something that was made up on the spot I have to give you props.
I would have liked it if he didn't say anything but just left the house. A firm purpose instilled in his heart. So resolute, so absolute there was not a second to spare.
Such untimely demise, fitting. Goose bumpy feelings all around. Well written again, thank you for the story and the time it took to write it! And again for the review!