Here, Story I wrote
It doesn't match the picture but I hope you'd enjoy it.
Nearer My God To Thee"
Sitting On a rooftop
playing a violin alone
Sat A Fiddler, Glancing over the Streets of London.
The smoke stack bellowing out Large Cloud of ash and soothe
Looking over the landscape a tear Falls from the Fiddler's eye.
Closing his eyes once more he Runs his bow across the strings to play the next few Chords of his song.
Looking to the Sky he breathe Another Tear runs down his face
Wetting his Chapped lips he breathed, and in a Raspy voice he whispered:
"Nearer my God To Thee"
Closing his eyes, he slowly lifts his Arms Out to his Side, feeling the warmth of dawn's break. The Lonesome Fiddler, Stepped off his perch and over the ledge...
Feeling the Warm Surge of Air Rush past his Face Made him feel like he was flying, he held his eyes shut for opening then he knew he'd be lost forever.
Opening his eyes, he looked out amongst the street, puzzled and Alone. He Saw the town's people Rush out their doors.
The fiddler then looked down to his violin, Broken, its Small Mangled Frame, only Held together by the Strings.
He turned to town's people, Tears in his eyes as his only livelihood was no more
Only then did he see It, The Body. Townsfolk rushed to the man's Aid, only to find that there was no hope left for him.
Looking at the body he Weep, Wishing he Didn't do what he's done. The Fiddler then feels a hand Lay upon his shoulder cold to the touch but warm in Welcoming.
The Fiddler turns to face the mysterious hand, only to look upon a Cloaked figure.
Breathing in he stood, in traced, looking up to the figure..
The figure, though face hidden he offered his hand. The Fiddler hesitated, uncertain about what he should do next.
Then the Cloaked man, leaned close. In a hushed down he Whispered, so only the Fiddler may hear..
The Fiddler looking to the Figure, glimmer in his eyes as he Takes his outstretched Hand. And together They walked towards the Heavens.
The Violin, once discarded and Destroyed was now Repaired laying on the ground.
A Girl, no older then Five, picked up the Discarded Violin, Noticing words were Carved neatly into it's Side,
My Dearest, Child you have no idea how proud I was to Be your father, I know one day you'll understand what has happened to me, but do not fear dear one. I'll be waiting for you.
Your loving Father,
"Nearer my God to Thee"
3 years, 1 month ago
27 Nov 2015 22:06 CET
Full Size: 10efec236d90aacf98a6a3234584caf5