Autumn's Written Works

[-Myst Sadakichi-]

Title of Piece - Live Free or Let Me Die
“Live Free or Let Me Die” an interesting choice of words combined together to make a song title. I didn’t really think anything of it. Just that it was something of an object to listen to, drawing my attention away from the world for just one moment in which I could have my serenity. Then, as I sit here and listen to the words again, a thought blooms like a flower in spring time, the petals falling away from one another with perfect form, a bit of grace, and the sunlight glistening upon the surface. Really, live free or let me die. How odd yet true these words ring aloud in a room of silence, I thought. How very unique the feeling to each person. How…strange the heart beats from depicting our own sense of the phrase.

“Live Free or Let Me Die”. What would one such as me or anyone else really think when hearing these words? I cannot say what the thoughts within the minds of others would foretell, but for me, this phrase has a rather strong meaning to it. First off, how does one –truly- live free within a world full of suffering? How does a person feel as though the weight or burden has been lifted from their shoulders? How is it that we, as human beings, think we control every aspect of humanity without also thinking of the punishment for some actions in which we cannot take back? I am starting to ramble on through the form of questions, not getting my point across, or perhaps I am.

“Live Free or Let Me Die”. Oh how these words take effect in the corridors of my very being for I am but in a small cage with bars of coldest steal that bite into the skin of my hands. Wings that have decayed overtime are so very heavy against my back. My shoulders ache for some type of release and yet no one hears the cries of this dark angel living in the pit of a dark abyss. Who would care for such a dismal creature? Doth He who reins above all this world have a place in His heart for his daughter who needs him in her time of need? Perhaps so, but even as the cage is removed, the black angel still feels lost within the world. Is there any such home that would shelter such a being? Is there a place for me?

“Live Free or Let Me Die”. If you’ve ever heard this song before, you might know what it is that I’m supposedly speaking of. However, if not, let me fill you in just a bit. The lyrics would god something like this, if I can remember them correctly as to not mislead you of their meaning. “You can’t take away my pride. I won’t be denied. There’s nothing left to fight. Live Free or Let Me Die.” Now, what thought instantly flood your mind when you read that? As I said before, I didn’t really think about it or the thought didn’t hit me until after I listened to the song a few more times. If you ask me, those very words are quiet spot on target. This place we call our home is more or less like hell itself. With each new horrid thing that happens and as the cruelty continues to spread, the artist behind the magic continues to paint the flames around us.

“Live Free or Let Me Die”. Of course, I can’t forget about the good things that happen every once in a while. That would just be plain foolish of me to do. With that being said, what special times can you –really- remember in your life, even if you’re in your teens and haven’t really lived that long yet? What fuels your heart to keep beating each day? What gives you that drive to push through stressful times? Hell, what silly, small things can make you laugh at the drop of a hat? Ah yes, memories, memories, memories. Such brilliant, seamless, timeless treasures to hold onto, wouldn’t you say? Live Free or Let Me Die. If there is one thing that I might remove or change in the title so that it would better fit this documentation, it would just have to say “Live Free”. Live Free in tomorrow’s twisting economy. Live Free when it seems that chains bind you. Live free, live free, live free.

“Live Free or Let Me Die”. Now, I draw to a conclusion to this. Live Free. Work, push, and strive to live free. Let Me Die. If I cannot somehow survive through it, if I cannot find some way to be free, then I shall leave this world behind and find a better place amongst the stars. That, some would say, is a fools dream. Just like finding fake gold and calling it a fool’s treasure. Ah well, I suppose that’s just how it is with me. I look for things that sometimes can’t be reached or found, but then again, nothing is impossible once you put your mind to it…right? So, yes, live free or let me die.  

[-Myst Sadakichi-]

Title of Piece - Enchantress of Sherium Falls
Far off in the distance, in a land you can only hope to find amongst wishes and dreams, is a special place where creatures of wonder exist. Here, you’ll find wonderfully cared landscapes with splashes of brilliant shades and hues that play, mix, and spread. You’ll discover trees filled with branches that have vibrant leave of different greens. And many a bird will sing, twitter, and chips with musical voices. So, where would one start their travel in such a luscious place of imagination? Perhaps, you attention could be pulled toward the Sherium Falls, the water there literally sparkling like diamond.

What would be found in the peaceful location besides the nice temp of the stream and the rain like song of the water rushing over smooth stones? Maybe if you were to pay special attention, you’ll find something of enchantment. You could just find the magic that’s there if thou dost believe, however. Is there really such a thing as magic? But of course there is!!! Look upon Sherium’s shore and see what magic you have in store. Hm, still don’t think there is magic with being surrounded by such a place? Well, let us see if she can make you a believer in the impossible yet extraordinary.

Precious wings of cherry blossoms light and tresses of auburn silk. Eyes like orbs with an amethyst glow and skin of golden tone. Smile of beauty that pulls at the heart and figure that plays within the minds of men. One would truly say that this figment of female build can only be found when tracing a path in a story. However, at these particular falls, the swirls of mist hide man details. This is why she is so hard to find. Upon the coming full moon you may glimpse the woman wasting away the time in the water. At the earliest hour of dawn when sunrise begins to paint the sky, you might see this lovely being washing those auburn strands under the waterfall, her skin seeming to shimmer. Believe in magic yet?

"Come ye mortals near and far.
Witness the birth of a star.
Come and play in the maze of my garden.
Find thy way into my enchantment."

These words she would sing with voice of gentle breeze while petals from lilies cascaded down her luminescent skin. Crystal like petals pooled in this woman’s palm, glistening with dew drops wet that looked like gems. Raising these jewels to lips painted of scarlet, she blew on them lightly, causing the petals to float on the air. Now, you would expect them to fall gracefully to where they would meet the embrace of the earth. But instead of doing the expected, they seemed to just hover, rotating as if on the end of a string. Increasing in speed ever so slightly, the petals began to glow. First like a very dull candle then like that of a bright, shining orb. With a simple thought from the celestial like creature, the petals grew, morphed, shifted, and laced into one. Coming to a stop and hovering in front its maker, there was now a dove of purest cloud hues. It cooed gently, flapping its fragile wings at a steady pace.

She smiled at the dove and held out her hand, cooing softly at the bird. It placed itself within her palm looking up toward her pretty face. Bending down she kissed its head and whispered words that would sound like gentle tweets to passers going by. A few short second must have gone by for the dove flew off into the sky. Up it flew, not having a care, into the arms of the clouds. From the moment it bursts through the clouds of mist something begins to happen. It folds in its wings around its frail body. A light from within illuminates outward to surround the dove, blocking out its feathered features. But now, it is a dove no more as it soars to the heave to join the white dwarves.

“Dost thou who hath such fallen faith believe in the ways of magic now?” the enchantress will ask. If your answer is yes, then look upon the sky. You’ll glimpse a dove with a twinkle in its eye. “Twinkle, twinkle little star. Oh how I wonder…what you are.”  

[-Myst Sadakichi-]

Title of Piece - The Silent Bard

The rushing of water, the patter of raindrops, repeated chirps from a lark, and the brush of the breeze against crystal sounding chimes that hung from the branch of a yew tree. These minor things wouldn’t mean much to many people, but they were pieces of a melody and so much more to a certain man. The lark, for instance, would become the soothing, sweet notes that came from a flute. The chimes were already serving their purpose with the simple beauty of their sound as the breeze moved through them. Lovely scented liquid in the form of diamond like raindrops are transformed into the gentle tone of percussion, making a steady beat that joins with the flute and chimes. As for the rushing water…well with it passing over the smooth rocks that lay upon the shore of the river this was nature’s own way of singing, the son having no use for words. But, one man could truly strum together a harmony such as this.

Blue. Sapphire and sky blue to be exact. These two shades were the first to be seen from passer by, the looks upon their faces holding wonder and interest. Sapphire, glowing pools that made up the eyes would glance back at these faces, almost looking into them instead of at them as though peering deep within their souls. If, however, you took in all the features of his face, one would find handsome yet boyish traits, a naïve sort of look, those gorgeous sapphires holding most of the wisdom. Then, looking beyond this, the taint of a much brighter blue was shaded onto strands of shoulder length waves, tiny curls directly on the ends. It was intoxicating enough to take all this in, but once you added the stunning smile that he graced some with, this man was like something from a fairytale or perhaps make believe where a child’s mind ran free.

If you looked away from this stunning picture, the rest of the canvas came into view. He was about six feet in height, body covered in earth tone clothing that shaped to his form just right. This seemed to creature a mixture of blue and green in his eyes, causing them to stand out even more than normal. However, it wasn’t these things that made him so extraordinary so much as his special gift for music. Music that could warm the coldest of hearts, each pulse being fully alive once again. This man was a bard, a rather strange yet lovely bard who could play such magical melodies with simple strokes on the lute. It was strange how one could play such joyous music and not lift his voice and sing the words of the tune. It made numerous people wonder why he didn’t sing. Why he didn’t sing along with the tune his fingers were playing out. Why did this bard not say the words that many wanted to hear when they gathered around to listen while he strummed the lute?

Well, now you’ve stumbled across the strange thing about him, for even as the notes floated through the air, his voice did not. In fact, it could not weave its way into others hearts as the music did. This bard was a mute bard. It’s one reason why he didn’t take on with being in conversations nor did he pay much attention to them. You would usually find him amongst the trees, playing his lute in time with the melodic birds and other sounds that wound their way through his wood. In this peace place, he did not hide, but kept just to himself. One other instrument that you would hear coming to life was the golden notes of the flute. These notes were more smooth and flowing than the lute, but in his possession they had light shine upon them. The sun itself couldn’t shine brighter.

Now, how did he get across his thoughts, you ask? It was rather simple to figure out if one simply watched his hands. They had their own story to tell, his story in fact. Upon his fingertips would be a blackish smudge from the coal that was used when writing the curved letters of calligraphy. The gorgeous strokes of that were made to form each word were slow as if he were painting a masterpiece. But, when he didn’t have parchment and coal with him, he would use his hands in a different way. They would move in a series of different ways as he signed to be understood. When talking of music, traveling, or nature, he would seem quite enthusiastic about it, his hands moving just a bit faster. His favorite thing to converse about was music, however, the way it sounded to him and the emotions that fluttered through the heart with each beat. Nature and traveling would be the second best things to music. Nature didn’t need an explanation as to why he liked it so. The beauty of it was all around. To see it as he did, one would have to open there eyes and –really- look as the things that surrounded them. Traveling was something that every bard did, but he took a special interest in it. This was his way of sharing the music since he couldn’t share his songs. But, a song really wasn’t needed with the music that came from the soul of this man. Melody and harmony were linked into on grand song of its own, each note seeming to have its very own personality and style in which it came, being played by the master of music. Ah yes, this bard is a special, strange, and lovely person to be around, his smile shining brightly which only made you want to smile too.

“Come one, come all and listen to him play. Open your ears, close your eyes, and dance with the suns glowing rays”, said one person to the next. Each time with was said, the words would get mixed up or rearranged, but the message was still there. A crowd gathered in the mystical wood, many hushed voices twittering like the very birds that surrounded them. It would seem that they were taking a back by the wondrous things all around them, even though it was just a mere forest. But as they flocked around the bard and quieted their voices, this is when he began to play. At first, you could barely hear the notes that were being played out. It was as though the music itself were shy, the being shy by nature. Then, as more quiet fell in the glade the sweet melody floated seamlessly to the ears of the people. Many hearts fluttered while a few pairs of eyes closed, sighs of content from the beauty of the music following after. Emotions rose up together like a wave, each one being different from another. Oh how peaceful the music was and how talented this bard. Soothing song made some rock back and forth, hugging themselves or holding onto a loved one. Some had silent tears roll down their faces, the drops looking like crystals in the suns light.

The music was gorgeous and his hands were breathtaking sculptures as they moved on the strings of the lute. His fingers moved elegantly, almost seeming to match the notes with each pluck that was made. The luscious stream of music continued, the minds of the people all wandering in the land that they visited when they were naught but children, their imaginations running wild like that of a wild stallion in the open fields being nothing but a free spirit. After hours, days, or maybe it was weeks that went by, the people all went home, leaving the bard to continue on with this song of pure joy. As the night fell upon them all, one thing could still be heard even though the musician behind it had stopped. From the rain drops to the chimes, the rushing water to the crystalline song of the lark, nature continued to follow the music trail that a special man had formed. For even though he could not sing, the silent bard would always be apart of everyone’s memory. With each setting of the sun, with each kiss of the starry night, nature provided the notes and the unspoken bard would work his magic…sewing them together in a perfect sonnet.

“So if you’re traveling through this sacred wood, listen closely and pay special attention. An angel of music is watching you, guiding you through his wood with magic and music.”