Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

The Enchanted Manuscript Of Elisabetta Esther

  • Melancholic Discomfort

    Melancholic Discomfort

    Melancholic discomfort was a mirror to my soul. Dead leaves fell with sadness. Sorrow grasped dreams and delight. The abyss of nothingness extended its boundaries. Delusional visions became gloomy shadows. Portals of darkness were sources of uncertainty. Illusion was reality but not anymore. Distances become journeys to surreal realms. Deceitful hopes were invisible traps

    Silence hushed me as an imperious order. There was no prophecy able to entangle my fate. Everything was distorted and hypnotising. Obsessions clutched my heart with nails and quills. The horizon was shrouded in haze. Only darkness was guiding me in a labyrinth of bitterness and revenge. I saw squalor swallowing magnificence. I heard the screams of joy of demented fools. Their claws were embedded in precious paintings

    At night I woke up overwhelmed by the moans of pain and dread. It was the visitation of those who had no voice. So many times, I wished to keep my heart in oblivion. But it was never the case. They came and their poison penetrated into my heart. I kept myself faraway from each one of them. At the end, my dreams had opened my eyes and I saw everything.

    It was too late and too soon. Time had no sense anymore. Nothing made sense anymore. Everything had become a dark nightmare. There was no escape. There was no salvation. I had been punished for having seen too much. Beyond any imagination. As if nature could have welcomed me to another realm. Where I was free from other mediocrity chains.

    The mist enveloped me, as if it wanted to protect me from seeing things that would dishearten and hurt me. I had been shamelessly emulated by horrible ghouls who scrutinised me with envious and treacherous eyes. Copycats who used my lipstick-red shade strove to reproduce my portraits in a grotesque, ridiculous style.

    Mediocrity and corruption wanted me to hush, because I had revealed their appalling secrets. But the wind was my ally and it brought my words to all the domains. My heart has been shattered and devastated. I had become a shell of myself. I couldn’t recognise my countenance in the silvery surface of cynical mirrors. I had no dreams anymore because I had lost any desire to return to my fantastical journey.

    I was just a shell of myself, a ghost devoid of every hope to find the delights in a lugubrious existence. Touching the gelid walls of a house made of memories and bones, I was reminded of the several losses, demises and vaults, which were entangled in my heart. I had lost everything that was very dear to me in an indissoluble manner.

    I felt a melancholic discomfort like sharp nails piercing my heart, and an absence of noise, as if I had already vanished before parting. Long nights expired slowly, as though they didn’t want to leave space for the daylight. I was annoyed at the thought of seeing clumsy and mediocre beings wallowing in a world filled with cornucopias and treasure chests.

    I constantly felt like a creature condemned to see what I didn’t want to see. Squalor, venality, superficiality, and idiocy were served on platters of gold and gems as jewels of admiration and wisdom. I felt so disoriented and emptied of all my desires and dreams that I didn’t even know what I wished to accomplish anymore with my copious dreams in a tragic existence.

    All my anguished thoughts turned into raw, unfiltered words. The sense of deep disappointment had disarmed me and I no longer knew what to do. Countless times I had lost myself and never found that part of me that had faded into oblivion. Lacklustre, shallow, and ostentatious mortals had shamelessly disconcerted me.

    Their grimaces in front of the cameras and idiotic poses had dominated the scene along with their bottles of luxurious perfumes, their exorbitant chocolates, and their sumptuous jewels. I saw marionettes devoid of any decency, which were crowned queens of a fallen kingdom made of corrupted remnants and the dust of wickedness. 

    I sat under a dead tree in the garden of disillusions, I was already exhausted by a profusion of daring adventures, feeling that I was no longer capable of moving forward. I had given up in the face of the devastation and desecration of beauty and art. I didn’t want to be part of that assembly that reeked of disintegration and decay pit.

    But at the same time, I felt helpless because I could not save what had been cruelly torn away from me. My shattered heart stopped beating and turned into a heavy stone that made me fall into the abyss of nightmares. A fatal slumber had captured me, and I wept for the lack of dreams.

    The melancholy of the memories of what I lost overwhelmed me like a stormy sea. I felt helpless in the face of a tsunami of catastrophic events that had infested my life. I didn’t want to know anything anymore. I didn’t want to feel anything anymore. I didn’t want to love anything anymore.

    I locked myself in a refuge of perpetual silence, shunning everything that had damaged and scarred me. Every form of bliss had been relinquished since I had become a shadow in a world that didn’t belong to me any longer. I shunned the realm of degradation and profanity.

    I had embodied all the despairs and struggles that had chased me, now that I was a shadow in a realm of darkness and doom. Dressed in fragments of forgotten beauty, I wandered aimlessly as if fate had abandoned me. A gentle breeze of restlessness and sadness enveloped me, as if to remind me that I still had a heart.

    The hiss of loneliness was the only sound that constantly accompanied me. At the same time, I could not find a horizon or a destination to follow. I had regained myself by losing myself in the void, with the hope of forgetting everything that had erased me. I vanished like an evanescent cloud at twilight just before the eternal night came to announce its hegemony.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Sparkles Of Spell And Starlight

    Sparkles Of Spell And Starlight

    Sparkles of spell and starlight rained over me in my luscious garden of roses and bones. The shining stars were celebrating a feast in the voluptuous night sky.

    I fell in love with the glistening starlight and the sublime scent of my roses. I could taste the bitterness of melancholy in every drop of enchantment I was able to sip quietly in my secret refuge.

    Locked and invisible to mortal gaze, I could freely talk to mirrors and ask questions to the wind. In the dark and gloomy night sky, I could glimpse sparkling gems casting glares across the clouds.

    Nonetheless, I carried the burden of my tragedy, unaware of what love truly meant. I felt protected in my intimate garden of passion and forbidden desires, where I fantasised about lovely blossoms and sharp thorns.

    The mesmerising night was celebrated by the stars and the moon, which sighed with delight and surprise. I dreamt of extravagant flowers blooming like arcane mysteries.

    Awakened and dizzied, I relied on my derealization, and I could perceive all the things, which couldn’t be perceived by ordinary mortals. I have seen degradation and decay creep into magnificent works of art silently and subtly.

    I was made of chaos and starlight. I became the lover of my cosmic dreams, which accompanied me to bewitching forests and labyrinths of perdition. I had embraced my doom and my oblivion.

    Not far away, I could hear the ocean’s shore stuffed with broken seashells and withered rose petals. A salty breeze dazzled me by making me remember sugarcoated lies and bitter betrayals.
    
    My heart beat fast like a comet star of fire and ice. I had become the queen of the night and darkness, and I followed the rules of madness and frenzy. I enjoyed casting tainted spells on mortal souls.

    Sparkles of magic and starlight unleashed free in my bizarre fantasies during a winter midnight in my secret garden of dead trees and faded blooms. I felt the discomfort of my mystic intuition that had me see much more of what I wanted to know.

    I leaned against the stone wall of my gloomy dwelling. I had finally caught a glimpse of every single circumstance that I had imagined clearly in my previous dreams. I wished I were wrong and I wished to become silly like those lost creatures wandering in search of a phoney love.

    And therein I was, waiting for the moon to rise again in the valley of crystal pebbles and alluring pale roses. I shunned the exquisite appetites of passion that had destroyed me in my past existence.

    No mirror could ever hurt me any longer, at that very moment of awakening and awareness. I sparkled like a shining star among bones and candles. No ghouls could ever have hurt me now that I transformed into an imperturbable glimmer of starlight.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Among Heartbeats And Sighs

    Among Heartbeats And Sighs

    Among heartbeats and sighs, I passed my long summer nights, while dew from the flowers fell on my skin. Purity and passion blended, enticing me to the garden of the forbidden desires.

    The wind carried the exquisite poison of night flowers to my lips, awakening my body. I was mesmerised and enchanted with the phantom beauty of my own descent.

    I dreamed of marvellous roses sumptuously evoking delight and bliss. I grabbed and bit the fruits of frenzy and turmoil ready to satisfy my desire.

    Desire and covetousness were my startling cravings, which made my heart beat again and again like a source of power. I was dominated by my passions that monopolised all my attention.

    I fell into the trap of my mistakes and cried out all my pangs as if my teardrops could have erased all that dismay. I kept a multitude of longings in my secret treasure chest, which I sealed with tears and trepidation.

    A gloomy cloud of fear and disillusion enveloped me threateningly, deterring me from staring at the luminaries shining bright in the dark blue firmament.

    I was conquered like prey by wicked impulses, which were conducting me to the brink of uproar. I couldn’t find peace anymore in my slumber since evil nightmares were keeping me eternally awake.

    Demise would have been the portal of my liberation, and instead, I was playing with ghosts and magical roses. I didn’t want to accept the truth, I desired to pretend that everything was perfectly terrible.

    The silver moon gleamed upon me pouring its ethereal light over my garden of woe and sorrow. And among heartbeats and sighs, I remained silent and listened to the whispers of the nocturnal breeze.

    I could scent the taste of toxic magic on my red lips. I felt a burden in my chest burning like an everlasting flame. I wished fervently to be a free butterfly, flying over enchanted flowers. I wished intensely to be a free bird, soaring high amidst clouds and stars.

    A spell was cast over me, binding my heart to invisible phantoms. Desires had ensnared me in their vicious frolic, melting my heart into a lake of fire and ice. Therefore, I became a creature of that realm of shadows and darkness.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Sweet And Mournful Vexations

    Sweet And Mournful Vexations

    Sweet and mournful vexations fell all over me like a midsummer rain shower, while I was enticed frantically by my nocturnal demons with shallow folly. All alone I tried to disentangle myself from those chains of obsession.

    I could barely breathe and I wasn’t able to remember my name at all. So reserved and bashful as I was born, I couldn’t avoid wandering nowhere to find myself and the arcane secret locked by my fate.

    I had wished for myself a different destiny that would have granted me solace and delights. No peace remained in my treasure chest but only the dust of decay and a sparkle of dismay.

    A deafening silence claimed that I was insolent for my fearless dreams. I missed the calm nights at the candlelight, soothed by the sound of lullabies and ocean storms.

    I envisioned the image of spectres each time I approached the silver surface of a broken mirror. A feverish delirium forced me to succumb to the darkness of the night.

    I might have been a withered flower. I might have been a living creature. The gelid arrows of the frosty wind penetrated my heart that was burning like an everlasting flame. So frail I felt I could crumble like a crystal flower under the influence of devastation.

    Maybe the abyss of descent had swallowed me like a wild monster from the underworld. Chaos bound me like a velvet veil fallen from the gloomy sky, while shadows hushed me as if I were on the brink of disclosing their enigmas.

    Sweet and mournful vexations lulled me to my decay, engraving a mysterious elegy on every stone of my dungeon. A magnificent melancholy consoled me now that I was nothing but just the spoil of myself.

    I had created my own doom by means of my own nightmares. Was I the real and only creator of my own oblivion? That question echoed in my head forever like a haunting dream. I couldn’t even surprise myself anymore.

    So greatly lured was I, drawn into the maze of my own turmoil, where each image promised ecstasy exclusively, and instead offered me only exquisite torments. So much intertwined I was in the spiderweb of my fears that I could not liberate myself.

    Devoured by my own passions and obsessions, I entered the labyrinth of sweet and mournful vexations, which clung to my very heart like insidious ivy. Meanwhile, the imperceptible sound of the night surrounded me like a mystic mist. And therein I remained like a frozen butterfly in a garden of shimmering glaze.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Ensnared In My Own Obsessions

    Ensnared In My Own Obsessions

    Ensnared in my own obsessions, tricked by my own illusions, I wandered, lost in the abyss of my fantasies. Nightmares were lulling me to sleep on a winter night, while soft whispers were revealing terrible truths to me.

    Time was slow like my heartbeat. I couldn’t cope with my anguish. It was a massive pain that devoured my heart constantly and slowly. Slow was the time. Slow was the consistency of all my pangs inflicted on me.

    Far away, I couldn’t perceive any clear horizon because respite was cast away from me. I could have cried; I could have screamed; I could have broken free from every cruel distress, no mortal soul would have ever noticed it, in the realm of sugary masquerades and coffee goblets.

    Overwhelmed by the sense of oblivion and nothingness, I begged my fate to make me forget my bitter and sad memories, in an attempt to save myself from destruction. Teardrops of crystal ran across my face until they fell into darkness in the absolute silence of the eternal night.

    And I finally sipped the very last drop from my toxic goblet. I could feel my heart fracture in all its power, and my body shake with bliss and delight. I embodied my decay fiercely, and flames engulfed me impetuously.

    Shadows captured me viciously with their menacing claws, ripping my heart to fierce sparkles of passion. Shivers of euphoria and panic coursed through my mind, and my body was under the influence of a magic spell.

    The void claimed me as if I were a creature of its tragic realm. That immortal doom seized me in a dungeon where no starlight could penetrate. I hesitated and sighed in the midst of the nocturnal haze, which hid the deception of my dreams.

    Ensnared by my own obsessions, fooled by my own delusions, I strolled in the chasm of my daydreams, although I was confused. I couldn’t feel loneliness anymore because of my imagination. I couldn’t discern anymore what was real and what was not.

    I strove to feel calm and so much wished to be a star glowing in the sky among clouds and moons.
    I aimed to be infinity and emptiness. My heart became a labyrinth of frenzy and murkiness. I was longing to be taken away from my hallucinations.

    And I wailed to the firmament a multitude of times over, though I knew that no creature was willing to hear my laments. Wicked ghosts cast a spell over me, mesmerising me, and I surrendered to their shadiness, mistaking it for deliverance.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Possessed And Haunted By My Yearnings

    Possessed And Haunted By My Yearnings

    Possessed and haunted by my yearnings, I was bewitched by wicked creatures and exquisite ghouls, which I cherished each night devoutly.

    My heart had been dilapidated and torn apart by mortal shallow caprices. I did cast fatal spells that shattered hearts and obliterated kingdoms. My longings were my ruin and delight.

    I felt pierced by arrows of passion, and I could breathe ecstatic instants of decay. I sought transformation. I was willing to free my soul in the frosty wind of the winter nights.

    All my precious dreams had been turned to ashes of sorrow. My heart was just an ethereal fragment of ardour with no mercy for those who harmed me. Thus, I surrendered to frenzy and bitterness.

    I wailed all my wrath to the stars at midnight. I summoned my beloved nightmares, who listened carefully to my invocations. Therefore, the most fierce storms annihilated those who took me for granted, replacing me with shallow puppets.

    I recited my poetic rhymes made of esoterism and black magic in the worst moments of dismay and chagrin. I sang to the sun and to the moon my anguish while crying tears of crimson crystals. I wished for oblivion and fearless vengeance.

    My dreadful sobs eclipsed the sound of many thunders and maelstroms. Possessed and haunted by my yearnings, I was sorely lacking in my innocence. Instead, I had become the embodiment of passion.

    I begged all the underworld creatures to calm my anger down. Still, the only possible outcome was a chant of vengeance, wrapped in a black rope and sealed with the wax of raven and crimson candles.

    I conjured all the underworld spirits and sublime spectres, my most loyal companions, and they responded to my visitation. They unleashed turmoil and havoc, and they took me with them into their realm of Hades.

    Surrounded by crystal crowns and stone flowers, I had become a sorceress and the queen of shadows and forbidden realms. In my heart, there were only tainted spells and vexations. Surrounded by nightmares, I finally found myself in the realm of untamed desires and ruthless darkness.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • A Shallow Melancholy

    A Shallow Melancholy

    A shallow melancholy caught me in the labyrinth of torment and insomnia. My heart was pierced and disheartened by senseless whirlwinds of despair and anguish.

    I didn’t know where I was headed, but I could only feel a tremendous intimidation inside myself. A vast, gloomy shadow wouldn’t allow me to see beyond the horizon.

    I had no destination, and it seemed that I had no free choice to escape from that doomed fate of mine. The haze was so dense, and the night was so dark that I couldn’t find any portal to allow me to escape.

    I screamed to the stars, but they refused to listen to my voice, and I was cast away from their gaze for eternity. The everlasting darkness granted me the utmost agony, and sorrow lulled me to a fatal slumber.

    Although I cherished my dreams, they vanished into the ashes of decay. Solitude and loneliness had spellbound me with their sombre and mournful enchantment.

    In a mystic aura, I was viscously bound to a magical realm of lost spirits and wicked wraiths, which whispered their laments to my ears.

    I knew not who I had become and what my name was. So much confused and chaotic was the state of my heart that it sank deeply into the abyss of havoc.

    I fell into ecstasy and bliss, enjoying my decay and every pang bestowed upon my heart. Hurt and frantic, I shed tears of bliss and elation.

    My sobs and sighs broke the solemn silence that remained my most loyal companion in that kingdom of demise and chagrin.

    Frenzy distressed me, and turmoil shattered my heart. I embraced the bitter emptiness, hovering like an ethereal creature in search of magic vaults and secret forests.

    And there were no beginnings nor ends in the domain of the shallow melancholy. I dangled from spectral threads that drew me into my perpetual disintegration. And I lay there, claimed by the hereafter.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Wonderful Darkness

    Wonderful Darkness

    Wonderful darkness in the midst of my dreams shrouded me in its velvety dark veil, inlaid with stars and crescent moons. I was frightened to lose myself in the infinite void in front of me. Chaos enthralled me, as I was cast out of every solace, and I made acquaintance with demons and nightmares.

    I was everything, and I was nothing. I was infinite, and I was confined. No shapes or colours could define me, as I had lost my primordial impression. A festive creature had announced to me a decadent fate to me, leaving me withered flowers and branches covered with thorns. Although hesitation grasped me, I was determined to embrace the defiant distress that confined me in a dungeon of tears and vexations.

    Sweet dreams became dreadful nightmares whenever I was beset by tainted slumber. Candles were burning in the night haze, while I listened to the roars of fierce thunder. My tense heart fainted as it bestowed every drop of its essence to impatient and greedy spirits. In confusion and silence, I remained still like a frozen sculpture.

    I had severed all empathy for my past self. Decline was my inevitable destiny, and I sank deeper and deeper into the abyss of despair. Skeletons of memories claimed me from their otherworldly home. Ethereal flames adorned me like a fiery crown. In my eternal dream, I was flying free like a butterfly on a spring morning.

    Nonetheless, what was expected was a storm of wrath and demise. Wonderful darkness had entangled me in a quagmire filled with ghosts and howls. My heart was viciously tormented, fractured and torn to pieces. I couldn’t find a shadow willing to grant me even a fragment of marvel.

    The firmament hid the stars’ bright glow beneath dark and threatening clouds, and I acquiesced to my fate. Evanescent shadows wrapped me with their mysterious soliloquies. I traversed my last portal without any hope of return. My name was obliterated, and my heart was swallowed by wonderful darkness. Through loss, vexation, and oblivion, I was consecrated to the eternal and infinite night.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Seeking Dreams

    Seeking Dreams

    Seeking dreams in nowhere on a winter night with no stars but only a mystical fog and gloomy clouds. Not even a bird was flying in the leaden and dark sky. Only the clouds were gazing at me like curious observers, and the wind whispered legends of despair to me.

    I signed and dreamed of ocean floors paved with diamonds and stars. I fantasised about mermaids lost in submerged islands, and snow-capped waterfalls on remote cliffs. Time faded away when I was dreaming. Not even the impetuous cold rain could distract me from my nightdreaming.

    Foolishness never abandoned me, while I was consumed by my passionate longings, which brought me to the edge of the universe. Wonderful darkness enticed me, and I summoned my own demons and spirits, surrounded by exquisite midnight flowers.

    Folly and wisdom accompanied me in my everlasting journey to a netherworld descent. Though I have visited heavens and abysses, boundless valleys and inaccessible mountains, I have always ended up at the very same point of origin, namely my archaic abyss of despair.

    Seeking dreams in nowhere on a frosty night with no glimmering lights but only a ghostly haze and dismal shadows. No living creature crept close to me, but only wraiths and eerie ghouls, which kept following me in every abode and realm I dwelled in.

    I foresaw my decay and the obliteration of all my dreams that I had sought for so long in vain. Drowning in the emptiness and losing my heart, became a nightmare of mine under the shape of an incubus visiting my slumber. Arcane verses, evoking a magic spell, were engraved on my soul.

    Scarlet flowers adorned my hair that flowed on my face, while my tears of sorrow soaked the frozen soil. Nightmares and thorns poisoned my never-ending nights, tainting the sky with chaos. Numbed and mesmerised by swirling griefs that never hesitated to tarnish my keenness, I softly succumbed to my unavoidable demise.

    While seeking dreams, I harboured enemies in my soul, fooling myself with obsessions that left indelible marks in my senses. I had to renounce being myself and let the darkness swallow all my desires. In a realm of liminality, I was cast away and compelled to endure agony.

    Abandoned in my dismay, I found no solace. I metamorphosed into sorrow. I became what I had feared the most, the very thing that had damaged my heart. I ended up in loneliness and turmoil, seeing my own reflection staring back at me in fractured and disfigured mirrors.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Upon The Petals Of Intoxicating Beauty

    Upon The Petals Of Intoxicating Beauty

    Upon the petals of intoxicating beauty, as if it were a marvellous flower, I found my haven of love and dreams. I lost touch with my wisdom and embraced my unconscious desires. Passionate as I was, perpetual flames scorched my heart, where all my most audacious secrets were embalmed.

    The winter storm came suddenly, and it made all my flowers fade to a haze of stardust. Love and dreams rumbled in my heart like thunderbolts. In stupor and wonder, I fell into an eternal slumber, in which I couldn’t suffer or feel despair. Frozen and benumbed, I became a part of a realm beyond time and space.

    Among stars and clouds, I could see the rainbow of my derealization. I was inflamed and frightened by my own trepidations. I attempted to convey my liberty from past chains, as they strove to bring me down into the abyss of misery. What could I have been in other realities I knew not, while I was lost in broken remembrances.

    The frigid breeze unleashed remembrances and released ancient phantoms from my early past. A vortex of emotions stirred inside me, emptying me of all my enigmas. I wished I could understand what was happening in that very moment. Nevertheless, stupor and hallucinations kept me from wisdom and sanity.

    I felt innocent and fierce, although a bitter dread attempted to fill my heart with infinite emptiness and anguish. I celebrated my resentful loneliness as a treasured gift very dear to me. Every feeling overwhelmed me, and I kept freezing. Every cherished devotion made me hide in the most remote haven.

    I started to talk to mirrors even when they were broken. Each mirror whispered words I didn’t wish to utter or hear. I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t remember my past, since I had lost all connection to past ghouls. I couldn’t find out who I was and where I was. None of my questions had ever found their answer.

    Upon the petals of intoxicating beauty, as if it were a poison spell, I found my demise and eternal doom. My fragility induced me to weep, and I screamed into the darkness of the inexhaustible night. My tears engraved every pang upon my face, running down like garnet streams.

    Thorns and brambles wrapped themselves around me delightfully, making me rejoice with euphoria and bliss. In the ecstasy of contrition and mortification, I found my utmost merriment. Lying helpless and disconsolate, I followed the trails of my reveries, hoping in vain to remember my name.

    I dreamed of exquisite flowers and sweet poisons. I fantasised about petals of intoxicating beauty, until dark shadows dragged me into the abyss of obliteration. I might have been cast into a realm of demise, where spirits and underworld creatures offered me festive and joyful torments.

    In dizziness and elation, I was struck by magical starlight and thunder. Upon the petals of intoxicating beauty, as if it were a marvellous flower, I was defeated and cast away. And lost in the labyrinth of my souvenirs, I could no longer distinguish delusional fantasies from my own ruin.
    Elisabetta Esther

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