The Digital Manuscript of Poetry and Literature by Elisabetta

  • Beguiled by Doubt and Fear

    Beguiled by Doubt and Fear

    Beguiled by doubt and fear, I wandered in the darkness of the night, searching for deception and truth.

    I remembered that the sun had just set down slowly, diving into the ocean depths and dissolving completely.

    Struggling to keep myself alive, trying to not think and not remember, hence not suffering anymore.

    Successfully, I discovered refuge in the oblivion of my senses, no longer understanding what reality and illusion were.

    Sobbing and gasping until I couldn’t breathe anymore, I fell like a dead flower on the cold ground, and there I lay down, remaining senseless like a deadly slumber.

    I awoke in a new realm, but I was not alive anymore because I belonged to the kingdom of death and oblivion.

    I was happily dead for the rest of eternity, an ethereal and metaphysical creature rambling in an endless night.

    I was no longer living, beguiled by doubt and fear. Betrayal and lies were not part of my life anymore, and neither phoney love belonged to my realm.

    I was finally free from vultures and deception. My essence was pure, like a crystal gem shining under the moonlight.

    Alone, I wandered, and I still strolled among shadows and memories, feeling a grudge and the emptiness of the eternal night.

    Silence surrounded me like a haunting ghost, following me everywhere, always lingering. I heard nothing but the echoes of my own obsessions.

    Teardrops descended over my body, cold manifestations of my sorrow and my anguish, silent sighs of my despair and my invisible wounds.

    I embraced death and defeat forever, perceiving their cruel grasp over me; their wicked blade pierced me brutally until it shattered me to pieces.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Ocean of Gloominess

    The Ocean of Gloominess

    The ocean of gloominess stretched before me and beyond any imagination, displaying all its magnificence and supremacy.

    Fears and insecurities became ominous shadows that grew bigger, like intense storms dragging me deep into the abyss of oblivion.

    Freezing was the wind that embraced me with its long, spiky arms like a sweet and sour betrayal that ripped my heart.

    I would embrace non-existence rather than existence as a valley of distress and pain where I don’t find any place of joy and peace.

    Not relying on trust anymore, searching desperately for the truth buried underneath, I laid down on the cold soil, waiting for my eternal slumber to drag me away.

    Teardrops covered my face, freezing under the shapes of crystals and gems, now that nothing would have remained.

    And so, I became a part of that frozen realm where all the trees and flowers were made of insensitive frost.

    Not feeling anything anymore was my source of delight and amusement. I strived to forget all the memories as if I really never existed.

    The ocean of gloominess enticed me with its mystery and illusions, its sovereignty and cruelty.

    The nothingness lured me over and over again till I fell into the snare of the void where I coveted to finish like an ethereal dream of mine.

    Hence, I fainted again in a deadly slumber, a permanent one from which I couldn’t wake anymore, becoming just a frail, glimmering snowflake.

    Fleeting moments became remembrances to be obliterated like sand devoured by the wind. And dread overcame every little sparkle of mirth, leaving me adrift in the eternity of despair.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Under The Spell of Despair

    Under The Spell of Despair

    Under the spell of despair and distress, I fell into a slumber that dragged me to a realm of darkness and madness.

    Disquietude welcomed me like a soft petal falling on the frigid soil soaked with tears and blood in a domain where I had always been a nobody.

    The sound of a storm kept me asleep as I was under a dark spell of pain. Loving to be possessed by an anguish that was piercing and breaking me.

    A sharp blade stroked me just as an affection manifestation of my nightmares, visiting me like haunting spirits, leaving me bleeding my soul out.

    Decadent desires of lust grabbed my body, tearing me apart with their alluring viciousness, leaving me like a crushed rose whose blood stained red all over the garden grass.

    Faraway, wicked echoes of phoney oddities and curiosities claimed me as their biological creature and beloved possession of my early youth. They trampled upon my essence repeatedly until my soul dissolved into nothingness.

    Old forbidden secrets were kept inside my heart like decayed treasures made of rotten fondness. They made me feel like a butterfly without wings and without a name.

    And so, I became nameless and faceless, ensnared under the spell of despair and mortification, revelling in the triumph of decadence and the torment of existence.

    Floundering in the unfathomable depths of an ocean of dreams and illusions, I drifted endlessly, lost within their spectral embrace.

    In the end, I became a crimson blossom, sustained by the moonlight’s ghostly glow and the deception of my obscene dreams.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Eternal Night

    The Eternal Night

    The eternal night within myself was sombre and mysterious,
    Like an obscure, vast, nocturnal ocean welcoming the starless night sky,
    A dark sky diving down into the sea depths.

    Obsessive was the wind hissing ominously against me,
    And in the same time, pushing me inside that frightening water realm,
    Where I was very driven to jump and disappear forever.

    Alone and lonely, I remained on the brink of the precipice,
    From where I heard a captivating spell of death and delight,
    Forgetting about every endeavour to endure a ruthless existence.

    I became the night, and the darkness pierced me like a sharp, poisoned arrow,
    Ready to be destroyed like a fragile crystal flower,
    With the awareness that I would become a part of the infinite void.

    And an absolute silence lit the memories within myself,
    Condemning me to relive my past,
    A realm I’ve always sought to escape.

    The void opened its maw, revealing itself a chasm of legends and glooms,
    Summoning me with its enchanting spell, recalling all I had lost,
    A dirge was sung by several faceless mirrors of sorrow and despair.

    Each remembrance burned like a fading flame,
    Illuminating instants that I dared not revisit,
    Although they lived like unbidden guests inside the darkness of my soul.

    I strived to stay away from that endless obscurity,
    Trembling as soon as its cold grasp reached and touched me,
    Provoking disturbing sensations and visions within me as fragments of life shattered into countless pieces.

    The waves below surged like spectral wraiths,
    Touching, pulling, claiming me as their own belonging,
    Promising delight and mirth in the depths of nothingness.

    I lingered suspended in that ethereal dwelling between life and death,
    Between the yearning to vanish,
    And the curse of perpetual souvenirs.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Magic Spells

    Magic Spells

    Magic spells manifested amid the night of ghosts and witches,
    Whose enchantments lured creatures, hearts and souls,
    In a realm of nowhere, where time stopped long ago.

    Silence and darkness ruled this enchanted world,
    Where the moon and the stars were witnesses to the magnificence of the night,
    In this devil-may-care domain, glooms and ghouls danced with glee.

    Arcane secrets were kept in cold and lifeless trees,
    Whose boughs gnarled and twisted, bearing the consequences of curses and hexes,
    Together with tales of ruin, despair, and broken verses.

    An elixir of ancient magic spells was smeared through the shrouded woods,
    Ethereal spirits roamed, guided by illusions, while searching for a dwelling,
    Wandering without any guidance, lost in the labyrinth of eternity.

    This abyssal lair was not a haven at all,
    Since the only loud noises were sobs of sorrow and the sharp tang of despair,
    While the ground beneath trembled with restless sighs.

    The stars were mourning, hidden in the skies,
    A cauldron bubbled with its fumes reaching high,
    In an eternal void, devouring the light.

    In this realm, sorceresses conjured dreams twisted and dire,
    Stirring the pot with wands of blood and fire,
    While embracing a doomed fate made of dread and shadows.

    In every corner, the void overcame life and hope,
    Keeping the secrets that time could not preserve,
    With every chant, a spell was cast, obliterating the past, the present, and the future.

    The night echoed as a requirement of endless pain,
    While shapes of dread evoked tales of the forgotten dead,
    Mocking the living with their eerie whizz.

    In this chimerical realm of endless plight,
    Desire and love were fleeting and banished lights,
    Since arcane arts tore apart both souls and hearts.

    When the night became a cursed precipice,
    Only an absolute silence rose bleak,
    Lingering like a haunting magic spell and leading to a shadowed hell,
    In this realm of nowhere, all became decay and death under the hex of magic spells.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Dark Vault

    The Dark Vault

    The dark vault of death and desires was the hidden alcove where all the dreams became flowers of death.

    Desires painted the antique wallpaper in red blood, casting a spell on whoever dared to dream in a deadly slumber trapped in those walls.

    No light could have pierced the darkness that ruled that niche, not even the silvery moonlight, so shy to surrender to all that gloominess.

    Far away from every kind of imagination, desires, and dreams were nothing else than a beautiful aspect of death, with the only purpose of obliterating everything.

    No dream would have ever come true; instead, they would manifest the only final aim: the perpetual and endless destruction of all that was pure and magnificent.

    The dark vault was a mysterious crypt that existed only in a chimerical realm where time and space made no sense.

    The walls of this eldritch place were adorned with mirrors of betrayal, their shattered surfaces still gleaming.

    Each fragment reflected only the phantoms of lost expectancies and fractured souls. Every sliver concealed a story of despair, hissing in the silent domain of this dark vault.

    In the heart of this chasm stood a grave of glooms carved from obsidian and veined with crimson ichor.

    A tome rested upon the grave; its pages were inked with the anguish of a thousand forgotten souls.

    To read from this book meant to be bound to the vault forever, chained by the weight of desires turned to ash.

    Sobs crept as if disembodied voices murmured secrets of aggrieved existences. They wove around the corners like the Hydra, promising happiness and pleasure but delivering only torments.

    They unveiled tales of love turned decayed, of corrupted ambitions, of defiled innocence—all reduced to hollow vestiges of what could have existed.

    The darkness surrounded everything as a cruel reminder that no dream could ever flourish in such a place.

    Those naive dreamers who stumbled into this dark vault were ensnared by its grim allure. Their desires, once flamboyant and passionate, were siphoned away, leaving their spirits barren and their forms reduced to statues of cinders.

    These uncautious wanderers remained permanently frozen in agony, outstretching their arms and striving to seize dreams that were lost forever.

    The vault itself seemed like a living creature, feeding on the despair it provoked and expanding its labyrinth routes with each new prey.

    New grotesque chambers unfurled like malignant blooms, adorned with relics of devastated hearts and the skeletal relics of every aborted dream.

    There was no escape in this wicked vault, for it was an eternally cursed and tragic realm—a liminal space that swallowed all, reducing everything to echoes in its mournful symphony.

    The dark vault was the embodiment of the inevitable, where every dream, every desire, every spark of life came to die.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Chasm of Chaos

    The Chasm of Chaos

    The chasm of chaos and fear gazed like a grotesque creature,
    With its jagged edges that were viciously shaped.
    It lived of despair and dread in the frozen emptiness of the realm of dreams,
    Like a maw of shadows and glooms, vast and bare.

    This ominous abyss was a silent expanse,
    While whispers rose chaotically like a mournful hymn,
    Pulling the light to this hollow kingdom of darkness,
    Where the stars had begun to fade and hope decayed.

    I was alone in this doomed abysm,
    Where time dissolved, and nothing prospered.
    No ground beneath, just the void’s retreat,
    Its pulse was a lament, slow and discrete.

    The chasm of chaos had allured with a spell of dread,
    Promising truths from the tears I’d shed.
    But all the truths it bore were forged in lies,
    A grave for a reason beneath dead skies.

    The lure grew intense, and my will had weakened,
    As terror bloomed, every resilience was drained.
    Into the depths, I had fallen down at last,
    Like a soul unmoored from the obscure past.

    And in its core, no life ever endured,
    Just chaos reigning like an uncontained ruler.
    The chasm of fear had claimed its privilege,
    And left behind, no glimmer, no fragment, no trace.

    The ravine sang a dirge such as a mournful and hollow cry,
    Its melody was like fractured winds that ceaselessly wailed.
    Each sob engraved wounds deep into my soul and my mind,
    Binding my essence to its darkness, confined like a buried flower.

    Its infinite gusts spiralled like a suffocating haze,
    Turning instants into aeons in its dark maze.
    No horizon was visible, and no mirth remained,
    Only clouds and shadows lingered with an agony that was ingrained into them.

    The deeper I sunk, the colder it grew,
    A realm where nightmares and despair accrued.
    Every heartbeat felt a remote memory like a misplaced echo,
    As the chasm’s grip obliterated all I’d embraced.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • A Long Night of Desires

    A Long Night of Desires

    A long night of desires and regrets beneath the infinite darkness of the firmament disclosed many dreams and secrets.

    And for each memory, a terrible ghost of the past appeared under the shape of an ominous shadow whose silent scream shattered every flower to dust.

    A fearless storm surrounded the night with its thunders and gloomy clouds, obliterating every trace of beauty from the realm of dreams and darkness.

    Giving way to nothingness and void that swallowed everything with an eerie fury.
    All that remained was a desert with scattered fragments of emotions and love.

    The moonlight lit flames of longing and despair, glinting like shattered glass, trembling with soft murmurs.

    Every blossom of the garden of distress flowered into a withered bloom, and each petal fell like a sour teardrop, dissolving into the sand.

    The inextinguishable emptiness exhaled its yearning across the barren universe, and its absolute silence swelled louder than the storm’s wildest cry.

    Hopes dissolved into the blank abyss like a river of lost dreams flowing to nowhere while love’s faint flames glinted, swallowed by the surreal dimness.

    Into the maze of sorrow, the eternal night became infinite and relentless, with its secrets buried beneath waves of grief.

    Glooms and clouds depleted all the frail remnants of light and joy, replacing them with immense anguish and decay.

    The long night of desires became an endless night of regrets when nightmares swirled around the world like haunting ghouls, tormenting every slumber.

    The infinite abyss of darkness extinguished everything, enclosing every faded memory of a realm once alive and now barely reduced to fragments of despair.

    A wailing blizzard agonised the desert of despair, dragging all the fragments of forgotten dreams and scattering the ashes of love that once burned radiant.

    The stars above, veiled by eternal dismay, became hollow gazes observing the doomed ruins below, becoming witnesses to a tale of a long night of desires devoured by the infinite chasm of oblivion.

    The firmament extended its icy and infinite arms, claiming all and leaving nothing but an absolute silence resounding as a boundless and eternal requiem for dead dreams.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • An Ephemeral Sense of Oblivion

    An Ephemeral Sense of Oblivion

    An ephemeral sense of oblivion descended upon the decadent realm of darkness,
    As an ocean of sorrow and grief dissolved into the dim night sky,
    And stars were obliterated by the obscurity of the infinite void.

    Feeling like a tiny flower in the immensity of nightfall,
    I sensed the vast darkness of the sea claiming my soul,
    Unveiling remembrances as haunting, shadowed visions of my past.

    Feeling no fear, I wandered into the unknown depths of the night,
    My thoughts were ensnared by ghouls of the past,
    Catching glimpses of horrible, ambiguous visions.

    Bleeding teardrops descended from my heart,
    As awkward chaos consumed my mind,
    Drowning me in the vast ocean of memories.

    My sacrifices lay shattered, lost to dust and decay,
    In a slumber, I fell like a flower falling into a lake,
    Unaware of the consequences of my anguish.

    Dreaming about unrealistic expectations,
    Beneath the shadows of darkness, fears and vulnerabilities blossomed in a garden of brutality and chaos,
    Inside a labyrinth woven with twisted roots of dread.

    When the night disclosed secrets, they became venomous and sweet,
    While grotesque truths appeared beyond mirrors of hidden torments,
    Shards of fractured loves were scattered and jagged in the void.

    Through the dark maze, I staggered, each step sinking deeper,
    Each gloom revealed wounds that festered beneath my fragile longings,
    And despair suffocated me.

    A faint light emerged, flickering like a dying flame at the mercy of the winds,
    Pulling me closer with its eerie and unyielding spell,
    With the only promise that I was going to face oblivion’s embrace.

    The stars had vanished after they were swallowed whole by the void,
    Leaving me adrift in the profound ocean of my tacit dreads,
    And finally, the night consumed me entirely.

    An ephemeral sense of oblivion fractured my heart,
    Until I became nothing more than an erased memory,
    Forever lost in the decadent realm of darkness.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Realm of Dust and Decay

    The Realm of Dust and Decay

    The realm of dust and decay was the place where I’d been hiding all my life, hopeless and devoid of love.

    A frozen spiderweb trapped me like a doomed dungeon full of wickedness, oppression and violence.

    Fate hasn’t been fair enough to grant me mirth and tranquillity but instead reserved me a prison of decay and lifeless despair.

    Invisible chains of control and oppression were twisted around my body, making me wish to fall into the abyss of death.

    The nights were too long to keep my sanity alive, long enough to remember that I was alive.

    Every night was too long to endure the chaos inside myself.

    Like a storm, each day was a struggle to keep me alive without any wisdom and future sight.

    Dreaming about oblivion and escape to a realm of dreams and illusions.

    Dreams and fantastic tales were the only evasions from my reality that displayed brutal colours among the tedious rituals of phoney perfection.

    Having lost my essence and my innocence, I became a non-living creature.

    Believing that couldn’t be more different, the reality surrounding me like an ominous dark cloud.

    I fell into the abyss of self-obliteration and resignation, swallowed by an undesirable fate.

    Living a life at the mercy of the winds and storms.

    Feeling a tiny flower floating in the vast ocean of the unknown.

    Mad nightmares were constant visions, like surrealist paintings of despair.

    My secrets became my only identity, kept hidden like a treasure.

    As a living paradox and contradiction, I was just part of the realm of dust and decay.

    And there was no escape from the labyrinth that held me captive, like a bird stripped of its wings.

    And, as if in an absolute dream, I longed only to vanish into the infinite darkness, never to emerge again.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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