Here is one that I wrote some time ago, based on an older song by MLTR (hmm, maybe I should try other artistes, any suggestions?), Romantic Balcony. The song is simply lovely, and it breaks my heart every time. If you're an MLTR fan, you'll probably know what I mean. The lyrics, the melody...I love it to pieces.
So "Tell A Tale" will be a new series, where the stories are either based closely on the songs (as this one is) or just on the title. I don't want to create too many threads! Because this sticks so closely to the song, I've included the lyrics after the story. This is slightly different from my others, and I hope you enjoy! [Insert shameless plea to follow and comment.]
Romantic Balcony
A jolt shot through his entire body as he was suddenly elevated off the ground. Put me down, he wanted to yell, but his lips wouldn’t move. The soil had been so soft, and the gunshots and battle cries had faded into numbness around him. He wanted to be put back down, back to the earth, where everyone went, sooner or later.
“Hang in there,” a hoarse voice sounded near his head. He shut his eyes tight, but managed to catch a glimpse of his friend’s face above his, staring down with a fierce determination.
“We’re going to take you to the tent,” said the voice firmly, as the face blurred out of view.
Ouch. He was not being over-gentle, nor was the other comrade pulling on his feet. Whoever it was, he seemed to be bouncing every step. Either they were being much too violent, or he was just so overwhelmed, that all this gradually morphed into a black, senseless fog that wrapped around his mind, warm and chilly at the same time.
The next thing he knew, the sun was almost down. It was quiet, sweetly so, and in the near distance he could hear the lullaby of the ocean softly brushing against the land. There was a gentle pressure on his hand, and lazily he turned his head to look down. In his tough brown hand lay a small white one, its warmth radiating to him, reach out to his entire being. His heart soared—he would recognize that slender hand anywhere.
Slowly, savouring the moment of anticipation, he angled his face towards the side, and saw a slim fair form pressed against him, a smile gently illuminating her delicate features.
Rose-red lips—fresh pink cheeks—glossy black hair—creamy pale eyelids that fluttered open to reveal a pair of soft blue eyes.
“Hello,” she murmured, her lips curving up into a quiet smile.
He smiled back down at her, but there was such a fog on him—so heavy—so hard to hold above his mind and body, that he couldn’t speak. He only clasped her hand tighter, never wanting to let go.
From somewhere near them, the smell of tulip tree wafted over, scenting the air with a serene lullaby. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and the last thing he saw was the starry sky they were sleeping under. He knew then, that they were on a balcony—a romantic balcony.
But a pain inside his chest woke him up—a sharp sensation that ripped through his torso; the fire seared through his veins and infected every part of his body in one moment. He was supposed to be falling asleep—what—why was he waking? As he gasped for air, the grip on his heart tightening, as if an ice-cold hand was squeezing it, the truth intruding his mind, a grey cloud of cloying bitterness. Weakly, he turned his head, ever so slightly, to avoid seeing the horrible sight of the smoky battlefield.
“How are you?” a gentle voice asked next to him. A cool cloth touched his forehead, waking him up.
So he had fallen asleep. Unless…
He choked out her name soundlessly—he couldn’t seem to force the beautiful word through his lips.
He tried again, but the nurse only soothed his forehead.
No, not her. But so alike. So alike it broke his heart. A line he had never really cared for sprang to his mind:
“There’s another, not a sister,
In the happy days gone by.”
When he opened them again, the nurse was silently sponging his dirty arms. He wanted so much to tell her—to tell her that he loved his sweetheart back home, and wished oh! so much! to return to her, and spend the rest of his life with her. There was nothing—nothing in the world—or outside it—he wanted more. It filled his heart and soul, gave his spirit broken, battered wings that did no good—for he knew he would never go back. The threshold led to the other side of the grave for him. But his lips would not move.
The nurse turned to look at him, and to his disappointment her eyes were dark, the only dissimilarity between her face and his sweetheart’s. But those eyes back home—those eyes held so much love, hope and faith, her lips so much wit and vivacity.
As he turned his head back to look up at the dirty blue sky, he felt himself drifting away, for the last time this time.
The slender white vision of her came floating into his mind again, as a strange look of pain distorted his handsome features.
Still there was a strange comfort in leaving this place. He didn’t want to be a wounded soldier, forced to lose her face in the depths of his memory. And yet he didn’t want to go—he wanted to live—and go home.
But—if home, home where someone was waiting for him , was not an option, then death it was for him. The last thing he wanted was to be out in that terror, being a soldier still alive in the war.
He wanted to go back—to the ocean—to the smell of tulip tree, to the romantic balcony.
Romantic Balcony by Michael Learns to Rock
The sun is almost down
And we’re both enjoying the sound
Of the ocean softly brushing
Against the land
We are sleeping, you and me
With the smell of tulip tree
Under the starry sky
On a romantic balcony
But a pain in my chest
Wakes me up
The truth is slowly spreading on the
Smoky battlefield
I am bleeding from my heart and I…
I feel so tired
I guess I have to rest
For a while
High
Above
This world
Missing your love
High
Above
This world
Missing your love
I can see your face in tears when you
So far away from here
Read the message from the war:
“The battle took one more”
I want to tell the nurse a secret
My lips won’t move
Oh, she really looks like you
High (Nothing can touch us now)
Above (No one to tell us how)
This world (I am sorry for the soldiers who are)
Missing your love (Still alive in the war)
High (Nothing can touch us now)
Above (No one to tell us how)
This world (I am sorry for the soldiers who are)
Missing your love (Still alive in the war)
*Instrumental*
High (Nothing can touch us now)
Above (No one to tell us how)
This world (I am sorry for the soldiers who are)
Missing your love (Still alive in the war)
High (Nothing can touch us now)
Above (No one to tell us how)
This world (I am sorry for the soldiers who are)
Missing your love (Still alive in the war)
Hey you
I wanna live
I don’t wanna be a wounded soldier
Don’t wanna let your face grow older
Hey you
Take me to the ocean
Take me to the smell of tulip tree
On a romantic balcony
Hey you
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