The River Styx

A visual portrayal of, metaphorically falling into death

Water swirls at the base, slowly creeping up the wall as the torrent thunders from underneath.

It is engulfing the room bottom-up with a greedy heavy darkness.

It is bone chilling and stings your heart as its many tongues taste the setting, 

                                                                                                 the next victim.

You have fallen carelessly and stumbled across the hatch, searching for thrills or perhaps escape. 

You laugh as you peer down the hole, into the darkness, and nothing responds

                                                                        You feel nothing but assurance.

Unknowingly, almost unconsciously, you continue to toss down the pieces, pieces that drift into the darkness and are consumed by hell fire

                                                                                      But out of your view "  

Eventually you turn to depart, to look for light, but you no longer hold control.

First the rush sweeps across your feet, and as you turn your face distorts in horror as the

black icy water spills out from the hole and across the ground.

    You wonder if you should panic.

The water flow increases, and the rush of the darkness paralyzes your muscles as it 

                                                                                                strengthens its icy grip.

It is a torrent now, conjuring a voice that roars and groans as it twirls and churns 

to fill the far corners of the room.

Waves stir the air as earthly familiarities are shredded, their echoes of fleeting happiness left only to                                                                                          drown in the dark.

Your body temperature plummets as you lose the desire to flee.

You cannot differentiate between the darkness and your morality.

The weight of such darkness crushes your spine, your confidence, your hope.

                                                                                                  

                                                                                                And you sink.

It was through just that one opening, your soul was claimed.

So far gone, there is but one hand with whom you are in reach.

Here, set bound and lifeless on the floor of

                                                     The River Styx.

Author's Note

I suppose this is about a year old by now. I was really struck by the visual of this piece during composition, that was kind of the driving factor. Don't know if that's really reflective in the finished piece, to minds outside of the author, but let me know what you think anyway :)

Reviews

[Glen Yumang Manese]

The passage takes you for one hell of a ride...the desperation in the lines and the darkness as the victim wait their fate in a room filling with water and slowly killing the life out of someone...and the end claims your life:

Here, set bound and lifeless on the floor of

The River Styx.

the river separating the the world of life to death...