The Ocean’s Hymn
By Darya, Stage 5
Art Write Light 2021 is a creative writing project curated by Story Factory, in collaboration with visual artist Blak Douglas. During the program, students from Bonnyrigg High School and St Clair High School were introduced to the work of Blak Douglas, and created written and audio pieces responding to his artwork.
The Ocean’s Hymn
Waves crashed violently against the ship complimenting the menacing grey of the sky. From below the sound of footsteps greeted him. He was not alone.
In the beginning there was only the abyss. A perpetual darkness where terrible truths and kind lies festered. All designed to execute the worst kind of torture. Pain. Not just limited to the physical kind.
I was safe, behind the red door. A barrier, a haven, against the evil lurking around the shadowed corners of the gloom. The white walls of my abode provided reprieve against the harrowing realities of the dark. The room was desolate save for the singular podium in its centre. An archaic tome sat gracefully upon it. Something, whether it be fear or instinct, prevented me from looking at the contents within the book.
However, on a night when the weather was unyielding, the tormenting call of the abyss became too great. In order to occlude the allure of the wickedness and perhaps satisfy suppressed curiosity, I opened the tome.
The roar of silence filled my head. All the pages were empty, save for one. A single line graced the delicate page, a question I did not have an answer for: ‘what is in the abyss’.
Slowly, I turn toward the red door, my hand mere inches from the handle. With trembling fingers I clasp the cool metal and turn. I am immediately greeted with an otherworldly presence. I follow its essence to the edge of the abyss and looking down, I see nothing. My heart feels as though it is withering within my chest, a rapid stampede, that refuses to still.
‘No,’ I whisper. ‘I will not be afraid of this anymore.’ And with that my feet leave the edge.
Falling. I am just falling. I don’t know what direction. I don’t know how long it’s been and I don’t know if I’ll ever stop. I am enveloped, shrouded in darkness, I will never be free, to see the light again.
I am overcome with emotion, tears well in my eyes as my breathing quickens. I feel the darkness closing in and the light within me flickering out. ‘Why me?” I yell with the slight volition left within my body. ‘WHY ME?’ I scream. The darkness seemed to laugh in response to my agony. Anger welled within the pit of my stomach. How dare this evil being steal such ife? How dare it rob ME of the light I cherish most? Slowly a white aura starts to burn around me. The anger I felt moments before turns into understanding.
To cherish the light, one must endure the dark. And to endure the dark one mustn’t be afraid to face reality.
Much is Rife, Blak Douglas, 2021
Art Write Light is generously supported by the Balnaves Foundation.