The Wretched

Alright kids. I see the growth in profile views, I'm not asking you to join or subscribe or whatever you do here, but FEEDBACK! I crave it! ;) Anywho, here's another piece I've grown fond of, also written this year. Perhaps partially inspired by Nine Inch Nail's 'The Wretched'. The song and the piece go together well, if you care to look it up :) You may have noticed in the last piece (be you that faithful, which so far is doubtful. So scroll down.) That the spacing is not standard. Lately I've been using keyboard punctuation, spacing, and bolding to add emphasis to certain pieces. I don't really know how that started, as I rarely compose a rough draft on the computer. This piece I did on paper but with the same symbols. All words are in caps to allow varied interpretations of where phrases could end and begin. --- > here's submission number two ---


Like Wind We Rush <---> We Depart
^ Who Can Be Content ---> To Believe This 
Life
      Is Our Last ~~~> So Wretched
                                                      We Crawl, 
                                        Through The Filth That 
^Overflows --> Out Of 
                             <-- The Gutters Of This Earth -->
Claiming Lives ~ Of 
                                Our Lovers, Our Children, 
Victims Of 
         ~~~> The Wretched, The Wretched <~~~  
                       <--- SIN --->
That Inhabits < OurSouls >
Deeming Us <-------------> Dooming Us 
                      Finite
[ Happiness ] Turned To Dust <---
And Those About To Drown ---> Be They
Humble <--- Enough ---> Wise Enough
^ Will Look Up And Shout ^
       S A V E   U S


O Holy Night ---> ---> ><>


And This 
          <--- The Wretched, The Wretched --->
Night
        Shall Be  
                ~~~>   Transformed
Into The Holiest 
Of Nights --- As We
Fall 
Fall On Our Knees ---> To Finally Hear ^ 
The Angel Voices --->
                                And Salvation
---> Becomes Ours 
                  ^ The Wretched ^
Washed In The Blood ---> Their Eyes
Opened --->
                   Reset --->
As Jesus Is Made 
     ---> Our Lord <--- And 
Life
      --> Becomes Eternal
And All The 
   ---> Evil <---
And All The 
         ---> Wretchedness <---
Of This World ~~~> Of Our Making <~~~
Lies
        --------> Defeated . 

The River Styx

Alright, so this will be Vox Sententia's first submission. Wish me luck!
I was hoping to upload these pieces in chronological order, but then I realized that if i did that, my first submission would be from the mind of a 15 year old. There's no way I'll hook helpers if I start with immature pieces like that haha.
So this is something I composed a couple weeks ago, not necessarily one of my favourites, just from an image in my head; kind of  a representation of sin or destructive lifestyles. Anywho, I hope you like it, PLEASE comment!

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 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.

Overture

Hello kids! 
I'll first introduce myself as a simple no one. Perhaps one of these days I'll find myself an admirable pen name. 
Vox Sententia, translates from Latin as 'Voice of Thought [opinion, way of thinking, or meaning]. Last semester I took a music history class that carried us through the working of the Gregorian free chants of the medieval era. It was beautiful; exploring the rich emptiness of melismatic acapella, the text delivered in one of the purest of the earth's languages... 
I've always had an interest in Latin, the root of our English language. It has a glorious ability to capture the essence of a grand and magnificent thought in the simplicity of one or two words. That's genius. 


As is mentioned in the 'about me' section to the right of this post, my thoughts are a mess. Chaos. But take note, I also mentioned that I came here to write. The majority of Vox Sententia will consist of my literary works, with only the occasional un-thought-out post of rambling. But I will try at least to keep those entertaining as well. 


My goal I suppose is for my writing to somewhat represent the Latin language. I hope that my every written word (or, for the most part) will reflect deep importance in weaving the whole. I have brought myself and my work here so that I can turn my chaos into meaning, into organized sententia. Your job, as a reader, is to help me. 


Cheers, 


Vestri Socius.