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| I Wrote A Poem About The Void (I know, I'm a nerd) https://forum.ice-pick.com/viewtopic.php?f=28&t=11361 |
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| Author: | Ennui [ 12 Apr 2012, 02:59 ] |
| Post subject: | I Wrote A Poem About The Void (I know, I'm a nerd) |
It was a school assignment, and it was the best thing I could think of. It's for mythology so we had to take a character from one story and put them in another story. I chose Septimus from Virginia Woolf's book Mrs. Dalloway, and then I plugged him into the Void universe. I had a limit of pages I could write, so I tried to condense as much as I could. Preface: Time breeds apathy and apathy breeds decay. Entropy’s unwavering hand robs fruitful bounty. Everything worth loving will eventually fall away. ****** Stagnation littered the air filling his lungs with frenzied particles. When he opened his eyes he saw beached whale bones. Savage, sinister, and tragic all at the same time. He decided they looked like a cage. A dewy voice beckoned urging him to come edging toward green and gold light. She introduced herself as Nameless Sister. One of the youngest of the sisters she had sad doe eyes clouded by the mist of death. She explained: Septimus’ translucent soul slipped down the chain. By chance, he lingered in the void. Oh, if only he knew what nightmares lurk below this barren tundra. This void is a pallid canvas. To live, you must paint using all of the various shades of despair. Decorating woeful skeletons and gluttonously feasting on their remains. Nothing is more precious than color. It serves as sustenance and strength and offers False hope. It is the source of freedom and meaning of suffering. A soul without color is one that that succumbs to the greatest death of all: Absolute death. Here the dogmatic brothers rule with the hot iron fist of patriarchy. Color is their sacrament. Their most important religious tenant: Selflessness is an abomination, all that share must be put to death. The sisters are weeping sirens. They are the gateway for color. To the brothers, they are murderous heretics. You must feed them. They cannot refuse. ****** Septimus sat silently for a while contemplating the irony. He remembered his final act of rebellion jumping out of a window to escape life. Instead of being greeted by sweet nothingness, he just got sent to a more dismal landscape with more severe jailers. Nameless Sister took him to her garden full of ashen withered trees. Their roots all connected as if they were one organism. Septimus felt the colors they burned through his veins As if thawing the numbness of death. With each tree he painted he felt he lost a piece of his soul. The trees wore the color like it was a cheap frock. They translucently glowed filling the darkness with light. ********* Septimus wandered the void like a hungry ghost. Each sister spoke in riddles hinting that there was some greater purpose. He admired the ghastly landscapes as a child marvels at the limitless blue sky. The void was horrific and it was beautiful. That fact astounded him. It was not long until the brothers appeared. He heard the abhorrent clanking as if bone was grinding into metal. Each brother was an aberration. Their humanity was indistinguishable. Their bodies contorted around objects each revealing the unique way they were tortured. They had ascended from hell and the void was their heaven. Color was their sacrament, and change was their enemy. Many welcomed him with open arms while others offered him disdain. Still, all offered him a chance to become a brother as long as he kept the sisters in their place. ******** Septimus pretended to ponder their offer but in his mind he rejected it outright. Never, would he become a jailer Never, would he break the wings of a dove. Septimus was drawn to the final unvisited chamber. It was as if the air rippled around him like a breaking wave. He felt he would be swallowed by the tide. As he opened the door it was only an apartment. Yet, he felt a loneliness It made him feel colder than the chill of death. A broken piano sat abandoned covered by a thick layer of dust. Books lay scattered in the corner their stories unread; dead to all. In the center of a room sat a wedding dress. Fabric trailed behind it, reminding him of a funeral march. He felt remorseful realizing instead of white, the dress was a drab light grey. As if it too was touched by the sullied hands of The Void. He quietly crept into the final room to find a girl sitting on a windowsill. She gazed into the distance. She reminded him of a spark That still burned bright Despite being surrounded by fog. Her face was obscured by wet tears and wedding paint. Ole was her name. It was at that point he knew their fates were inexorably linked. He finally made sense of the coy riddles the sisters tossed at him. A life for a life; a sacrifice for something great. He ruthlessly plundered his gardens until the color engorged in his veins, and he felt that he was going to fill to bursting. Gently, he took her hand, and led her out to the expansive sky. He released all of the color He had in his soul. She was lifted upwards Her bonds cut free Her soul free to ascend. She carried a seed of life And the beauty of a supernova. As the color drained from his body Septimus felt as if he was being drawn Into the warm peaceful arms of oblivion. He tranquilly watched The Void dissolve. He and The Void were drawn into a cleansing fire. The Void thawed as it burned Releasing the inhabitants from hunger and releasing them from pain. Oh, how beautiful it was to live. |
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| Author: | barkera [ 13 Apr 2012, 16:10 ] |
| Post subject: | Re: I Wrote A Poem About The Void (I know, I'm a nerd) |
Fantastic. A beautiful piece of work. Your style of writing and use of language is excellent. |
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