God Of Music Novels & Stories

"And I will tell you again, I was born with it!" I kissed her, diving deep within the Grace to see the shape of her song. There was a reason why they called groupings of angels Choirs or Bands. Our Generals Soloists. Our form, our energy—what kept us alive—was a song in its purest means. We were part of a comic symphony, each player having their own notes, something to weave together into the art of creating by the great Composer. When Grace was pure, uncorrupted, the notes sounded like a feeling, like a memory, and conjured strong images and emotions in mortals. They'd once called us Muses and, at other times, Gods, but our influence in nurturing still made the mortals rejoice in our tunes.

Her melodious voice floats to our ears, soothing our tension. The last God steps forward, towering over the other Gods by a foot. He puffs out his chest, a sense of entitlement floating off of him in waves. “I am the most important of the Ancient Gods of Egypt.” He says, crossing his winged arms over eachother. “I am Horus the Elder, God of the Sun and the Pharoahs of old.” Jamari looks at me blankly, unsure of how to react to the group of Gods that just entered the Temple. “Uh…Hi?” She tells him, her tone making it come out more like a question than a statement.

Especially since last time, I denied him and he never heard from me again. Until now, that is. "I have a life here Shinee. A duty to serve," I remind him. In reality, my life here is a scheduled torture that on my own, I'm planning to escape from. I'm not, however, planning to escape with Shinee. If there is anyone the Moon despises, it's Shinee, and he will find a way to punish me wherever I am on this world. Shinee still sees me as the Goddess who lives in her temple being sung to each day. It's easier he believes that, so he doesn't interfere.

Amari asked scrunching her face and reaching over to check her phone. "It says if any man be in Christ , he's a new creature, old things have passed away behold all things are become new." Aunt Marie said nodding her head and smiling. "You said in your prayer last night when I came back that God should let me find happiness in him and peace." "Yes." "I'm heavy on the word peace." Amari sniffles "and I opened to a page in the Bible, Genesis, God is Almighty and powerful and then I prayed after and I felt that peace."

His ten fingers glided over the strings, the sound of the guitar sounded like the sounds of nature, echoing through the heavens, the dance of Palomas Blancas, and the sound of León de Fuego combined beautifully. The music ended, and Palomas Blancas gently bowed. Is it real or virtual? Leon de Fuego couldn't tell the difference either. “This song is only available in heaven! It's been a long time, I haven't heard from you." God said surprised. “God, I am not good at drinking, can you allow me to rest?” León de Fuego stood up and history asked. "Okay! Go home and rest." God nodded in agreement.

Please God, help me! *************************

It's been 6 years since lyric moved to new York because of the thrill and the beauty of the place, and he is a Demi god of music but he has left that whole god thing behind because he feels that being a god does not define his success or his failure so although even if he can't change his unearthly goodlooks or anything atleast he is choosing to be human and hustle like one.

And Kurai. He is just right there sitting in a majestic pose, so relaxed as his face and seems his beautiful dark eyes don't blink. What a weird god. Then the music starts. I start to sing the song. But this time, it feels like I wasn’t the one who was singing. Its voice rolled over the place in sorrowful waves. Swells of power rose up in my throat. I couldn’t even tell if it was words that came from me. Its voice was music, and grace, and the haunting feeling of knowing that my voice was brought out in a fit of pain.

She adds after a moment, when my expression doesn't change. I give her a slight nod of acknowledgement. "Hi." I say after a moment, unsure of exactly how to respond. Apollo grins suddenly, his teeth white enough I fear that might blind me, and suddenly claps his hands together, a sharp sound that startles me slightly. Almost immediately, soft piano music begins to play and as I search for the source, I stare in amazement at the piano across the room, playing all on its own. The sound is beautiful, slow and lyrical, filling the entire room. Apollo's smile continues to grow, clearly pleased by my clear surprise. "I am the God of Music, not just the Sun-and many