Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:18:50 GMT -8
Sian lied on top of her covers with the barest sliver of moonlight breaking though her dormitory window, casting her silhouette against the wall. She stared at the image letting her mind again sort tough the myriad of reasons the sight of her created so much animosity among the other students. Sian played and sang from her soul, her music had played in her mind for as long as she could remember. Sian would not do it disservice by pretending to be less than she was. Its was not like anyone was denied a flawless performance; place your fingers on the proper stings, draw your bow with appropriate power, develop your lungs to hold the appropriate capacity of air to sing the proper note for the length and strength it was written. Learn your piece and perform it with your entire being and you don’t fail. In the end your performance is a reflection of the effort you put into preparing the piece and mastering the instrument. You are only as good as you choose to be. Sian was perfect, she accepted nothing less; and she was despised for it.
The night breeze brought in the sent of jasmine, and a pair of green eyes swept across her thoughts washing away some of the tension building within Sian’s slight frame. Flipping a page in her thoughts Sian found herself with the words to her vocal final. Two songs not previously performed at the school were required to complete her vocal certification. Every time Sian sang or played the white haired lady stood in the back of her mind nodding in time with the song, or tapping her foot to the rhythm as she played. In the still of the night Sian again began to sing:
O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O stay and hear; your true loves coming,
That can sing both high and low:
Trip no further pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise mans son doth know.
What is love? 'Tis not hereafter;
Present joy hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies not plenty;
Then, come kiss me, sweet and twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure…
Fear was not an emotion Sian felt often, but when she thought about singing a new song something untested and barely old enough for the ink to dry on the parchment. Visions of her entire career crashing down around her ears were daunting. This night flower haunted her mind though and only a song for her brought the sweet tones out in Sian’s voice, her requiem for the living would not be an acceptable piece for her final submission. Over and over again Sian sang the song till she drifted off to sleep and dreams of the white haired lady.
_____________________
O Mistress Mine, Emilie Autumn
Across the Sky, Emilie Autumn
The night breeze brought in the sent of jasmine, and a pair of green eyes swept across her thoughts washing away some of the tension building within Sian’s slight frame. Flipping a page in her thoughts Sian found herself with the words to her vocal final. Two songs not previously performed at the school were required to complete her vocal certification. Every time Sian sang or played the white haired lady stood in the back of her mind nodding in time with the song, or tapping her foot to the rhythm as she played. In the still of the night Sian again began to sing:
O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O stay and hear; your true loves coming,
That can sing both high and low:
Trip no further pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise mans son doth know.
What is love? 'Tis not hereafter;
Present joy hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies not plenty;
Then, come kiss me, sweet and twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure…
Fear was not an emotion Sian felt often, but when she thought about singing a new song something untested and barely old enough for the ink to dry on the parchment. Visions of her entire career crashing down around her ears were daunting. This night flower haunted her mind though and only a song for her brought the sweet tones out in Sian’s voice, her requiem for the living would not be an acceptable piece for her final submission. Over and over again Sian sang the song till she drifted off to sleep and dreams of the white haired lady.
_____________________
O Mistress Mine, Emilie Autumn
Across the Sky, Emilie Autumn