Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

The Enchanted Manuscript Of Elisabetta Esther

  • The Garden Of Oblivion

    The Garden Of Oblivion

    The garden of oblivion became my secret hideaway, where I could fall into total despair, crying out all my disillusionments. A garden of frozen flowers and broken mirrors unfolded before me. Fragments of broken mirrors sliced my heart into bleeding shards, which the moonlight illuminated with all its grace.

    I was a forsaken creature lost in my trail of lost passions and abandoned to my loneliness. I wandered like a dead soul without any aim to survive since I had lost all my treasures and nothing more was important to cherish. So, cast away from the other worlds, I sought haven in this surreal realm of my own invention.

    Love was a perfect stranger to me since my past existences, when utopian trees and flowers surrounded me all the time with their intoxicating scents and bright colours, leaving sweet caresses in my heart. In this age of shadows, I have become just a relic of myself.

    Lost in labyrinths inhabited by ghosts and wraiths who never hesitated to grab me with their claws sharp as merciless daggers. My madness grew each night quickly, as soon as I could stare into the gloomy emptiness of the ocean and scream at it with all my feral fury.

    Wandering infinitely among shards of broken mirrors and withered flowers, in the realm of shadows and dismay, was all that remained to me. I was a part of that world of doom and oblivion, although all that I desired was to be in an idyllic kingdom of delights and sparkling luminaries.

    The garden of oblivion possessed me like one of its creatures, having lost my heart, which had disappeared into the abyss of death, while I cried tears made of blood and sorrow. My tragic fate had deprived me of everything, and no longing was evermore granted to me.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • My Enchanted Nights

    My Enchanted Nights

    My enchanted nights perished one by one, like creatures dying and being reborn, melting into a single, unique, and everlasting night. I fell in love, time and again, with monsters in the guise of magnificent and exquisite angels. I spent my endless nights casting spells and magic upon mortal souls.

    I felt mad and sore as my heart was pounding in all its fury, like a winter storm at full might. My scorched heart had been repeatedly stabbed and torn to pieces. I cried and screamed in vain into the emptiness of the nocturnal sky, where I couldn’t see any stars.

    I was dressed in dismay and grief, while the shadows of my beloved darkness wrapped me in their ethereal veil, begging all the ghosts of my imaginary realm to set me free from all the anguish and pangs I was condemned to hold in my bleeding heart.

    In my enchanted nights, I was intoxicated by poison potions and magic spells, wondering if there was some way to flee my infamous fate, unsure as I felt myself in that absolute silence that enveloped me inexorably.

    Distracted by enchanting melodies and disruptive rhymes that echoed in my mind, I became a part of the magical maelstrom that dragged me into the abyss of swoon and oblivion. I had transformed into a creature that refused the order of the mortal world.

    My enchanted nights imbued me with chaos and stardust, inducing me to fall apart and renounce all the dreams I had once made an oath to. So much was I steeped in poison and witchcraft that I had forsaken my promises.

    I had always been cursed by dreadful premonitions, as I was doomed to perish in decay and obliteration. My bygone, enchanted nights, made of glimmering luminaries, were nothing but faraway reveries.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • The Shadow Of Death

    The Shadow Of Death

    The shadow of death was behind me, perpetually, like a faithful lover, tearing from my heart every hope of being loved and cherished as a unique treasure. It was a distorted mirror that reflected my anguish and my fears. It filled my cell with scarlet red incense, which constantly suffocated me, stifling me and preventing me from seeing my own image.

    I lived this suffocating and abominable pseudo‑reality in constant terror, no longer understanding whether it was real or a surreal fantasy, the product of my hallucinations. I perceived those distressing candles that burned me alive every time I approached their presence.

    The cold rock walls were so thick that, however much I strove to cry out and scream my pain, no one could ever hear it—no mortal and no creature from the subterranean world of the afterlife to which, apparently, I now belonged.

    Amid dust and drops of my blood, I was relegated like a lifeless creature, feeding on the faint light of the blood‑red candles, and that suffocating incense that penetrated every part of my body. Even the stars refused to cast light into that narrow cell, where my pierced heart had been nailed to a dilapidated wall as if it were a souvenir on display.

    I no longer had the capacity to harbour a desire or to hope for an existence wrapped in enchanted flowers and love spells. Everything I had dreamed of I had lost in the abyss of obliteration, and all that I had vainly pursued in my miserable existence had vanished, having only materialised into a bleak and mortifying prison for my soul.

    And thus I vanished into that menacing and omnipresent cloud that loomed over me. Even the decrepit walls, made of cold and indifferent rock, had no tears to shed for my bitter demise. I myself had become the shadow of death, no longer a mortal being but a creature of that world I had so long shunned, which, despite everything, had devoured me entirely and inescapably.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Sparkles Of Sadness

    Sparkles Of Sadness

    Sparkles of sadness manifested in the gloomy forest of my dreams. Lulled by a torpor of defeat and annihilation, I attempted to traverse a place unknown to me, with astonishment and wonder, yet, at the same time, with a heart steeped in sadness.

    Although the silver moon illuminated this unknown and dark forest, the further I proceeded, the more it seemed that I was losing myself in oblivion and in the abyss of my fears and uncertainties, for it was there that I was rooted; my heart was torn by a sense of suspension into the void.

    Indeed, I was overwhelmed by my nightmares, which slowly revealed themselves in the shapes of ghosts and wraiths, as I proceeded along my uncertain path without a clear destination. My gentle pains, which scourged my heart and disturbed my mind, rendered me powerless in the face of such apparitions.

    Even unwillingly, I had fallen victim to a vicious and infamous game of which I was not the author. And I could not even, powerless as I was, awaken from that deadly torpor, which was destroying me every night, as the wind consumes even the most unyielding rock.

    However much I struggled to oppose the oblivion that sought to annihilate me and erase my name, I could find no hold, no aid that might pull me out of that condition of misery and decay. My heart was lacerated and bled all my hopes like a raging cascade.

    Suffering and pain were the only faithful companions that followed me everywhere. In this realm of sepulchral silence and sighs of souls that could find no peace, I remained still, awaiting my demise.

    Bloodless, exhausted, I could no longer proceed and I fell beneath the weight of my own anguish, as if it were made of gigantic, menacing clouds bearing down upon me. And thus I vanished, leaving nothing but a trail of sparkles of sadness and blood, as if I had never been born, as if no one had ever known that I had existed.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • My Delight Was My Demise

    My Delight Was My Demise

    My delight was my demise. My greed, so bitter and dark, gripped my heart, crushing it with all its essence, and all my most secret desires crumbled like shards of crystal upon the frozen, sorrowful ground. Alas, misery had destined me to be its sacrificial victim. And yes, I had no escape from my cruel fate.

    However much I loved love and the delights of an existence made of dreams and gentle flowers. Reneged by mortals and secluded within my dark and comfortless crypt, I sought refuge in my fantasy, pursuing with my withered soul, steeped in sorrow, all my most hidden and forbidden desires.

    I wept and shed as many tears as there are drops in the infinite ocean that stretched far away from me, since I was not granted the privilege of beholding it from my dark alcove. Nor was I allowed to see the stars, ever again in my lugubrious existence—such was my fatal destiny.

    My only companion was my perpetual candle, which illuminated my lugubrious space, merely to remind me of my misery, my finitude, and my impotence. Ghosts of the past spied on me, casting shadows upon the decrepit walls, dilapidated by the storms.

    The echo of my sighs reached the stars, which gazed at me with cynicism and indifference, as if I were unworthy of their affection, while dark and menacing clouds reminded me of my defeat. While scattered feelings bounced within my torn and bloodless heart.

    Threatening shadows embodied my fears and my most turbid secrets, which I would never have been able to reveal to any soul. And so, between resignation and funerary torpor, I lay inert, as though I were a stone statue. In all my fragility and in all my vulnerability, I knew that what awaited me was nothing but the destruction of my heart, my essence, my very self—total obliteration and oblivion. They were my final destination.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Spells And Dreams

    Spells And Dreams

    Spells and dreams animated the garden of the night
    My words became ghosts, and their shapes were hunting nightmares
    Even the frost of the winter night couldn’t awaken me from my eternal slumber
    Indeed, I had fallen victim to a vicious enchantment
    Magic ruled my existence, in the shape of books and arcane tales
    I couldn’t help but follow the alluring call that hypnotised me like a live spell
    Luscious flowers had covered my body, and my heart felt feral
    The night dew moistened all the captivating flowers in my garden
    Love would never die within me, as I embodied untamed passions

    Spells and dreams visited every night of mine
    They came to me as phantoms and demons, though they were not always nightmares
    It was an unexpected and unavoidable fable
    I suddenly succumbed to their enticing frolics
    For I was naïve and oblivious of the consequences
    Letting these haunting creatures take advantage of me and possess me with all their might
    And even if it was silly nonsense, my fate was entangled with darkness and doom
    I was willingly joyous for this bizarre and painful outcome
    Merriment and wisdom faded away, being replaced by perils and folly
    I chose to devote myself entirely to a realm where my heart was all flames and blood
    Where daggers were piercing me voluptuously, like feathers of pleasure

    This garden of mine was no longer a wonderland
    All the flowers had turned garnet
    They sipped life from my blood, and I grew weaker and weaker
    I perished from my own silliness, chasing my desires and yearning for nonsensical passions
    The stars had already been eclipsed by the tempestuous sky
    The sharp blades of poisoned daggers prevailed with vicious cruelty
    I was encircled by the hostile wraiths of gloom
    Their indifferent gazes traced the collapse of my heart
    And in deafening silence, my end came to life.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Infinity And Phantasmagoric Fantasies

    Infinity And Phantasmagoric Fantasies

    Infinity and phantasmagoric fantasies were my kingdom of dust and decay
    A divine refuge where I could fly freely like a fairy
    When the storm of fears and dismay came upon me
    I craved love and devotion like a thirsty blossom seeking the rain
    Nevertheless, what I could find were silver daggers and poison ampoules
    Silence was the only sound I could hear in my lonely and endless nights
    My beating heart was full of spells and illusions, trying to fill the void with silly desires
    Although I had whispered my secrets to the luminaries glimmering in the night firmament

    I could listen to the time ticking as it slipped like heavy raindrops
    The flickering candlelight kept me warm while my heart sank in the gelid ocean of sorrow
    For I was exiled to an evanescent world
    Where everything was ephemeral and illusory
    And as much as I could cling to false hopes, nowhere was destined to ever become my beloved alcove
    For I was fated to wander evermore without any guidance or aim
    Quaffing poisoned potions, I fed my soul with venom and fire
    Perceiving my descent into the chasm of self-destruction
    Having become a fierce sorceress ready for any kind of danger

    Lost lyrics echoed in my mind as if they were fragments of my memories
    The suspense of my fragility made me shiver like a frosty draught
    I got lost in my dreams, dreaming of infinity and phantasmagoric fantasies
    For I was a dream myself, mesmerised by the beauty of my own imagination
    Shunning the bitter truth that my broken mirrors insisted on screaming at me
    All along, I was made of illusions, even though my broken heart persisted in loving chimaeras and ghosts.
    Sinking into the infinite abyss of nothingness.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Dreams And Tears

    Dreams And Tears

    Dreams and tears, in an age when night knew no end
    I dreamed while crying, my tears steeped in infamous bruises
    I was a sorceress obsessed with luscious crimson flowers
    I was the most impure and tainted blossom in the garden of the eternal night
    Where I envisioned dirty fantasies and sensual chimaeras
    I had become possessed by darkness and obsessions
    My longings morphed into moths and biting incubi

    My obsessions devoured me in their dim realm of seduction and destruction
    I lay naked upon the wet and frozen earth
    Powerless as I was in front of the immensity of an ocean of nonsense and decadence
    Secluded in my alcove of madness, I passed my nights among nightmares
    Born to be the victim of my own insanity
    When petals of frenzy pierced me like tiny daggers of folly
    Opening the portal to an obscure realm whose knowledge devastated me permanently
    I was shattered and not willing to see my own reflection in mirrors

    I felt the full weight of my anguish on my chest
    As if a lustful spectre rested viciously upon my body
    While the snow caressed me, as if it were its purpose to soothe my languid soul
    My tears never left my face, descending onto the frozen soil and making blossom flowers of fire and darkness
    The crimson moon cast faint glimmers across the night sky
    Amid the chaos, the luminaries emerged in the shape of sparkling gems
    And the firmament echoed my name through the stygian abyss

    Sulfurous and gloomy clouds concealed all the stars, enveloping the night in total murkiness
    All my dreams were burnt, and their ashes were buried beneath my gravestone
    I became infinite, and nothingness as well, surrounded by fiery flowers and pearls of blood
    The everlasting flame within my heart was untamed and filthy, like a feral creature
    And the night penetrated me utterly like a vicious blade, leaving me in absolute stupor.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Mortification And Delirium

    Mortification And Delirium

    Mortification and delirium
    My guardian demons
    They came to rescue me
    During a dreadful slumber
    I felt frozen hooks all over me
    It was magical and startling
    Nevertheless, the fear came to me
    I was wandering, lonely and vulnerable
    They were hunting me in the dead of night
    I could hear their steps behind me
    But I couldn’t discern a shadow from a glimmering star
    As the clouds had overwhelmed the night sky
    And the moon had vanished quietly

    Wherever I attempted to proceed
    I couldn’t find any portal to flee that abode
    My gown, adorned with blood and snow, had accompanied me
    The creatures of the underworld traced my every movement
    It seemed to me that I was mesmerised and hypnotised by their spells
    While a massive chain of hooks and pins entwined my body like a metallic vine
    I was an evanescent creature, falling apart into the abyss of decay and despair
    Under the indifferent gaze of the stars, cold and leaden

    The soft snowflakes were falling all over me
    Kissing my scorched and slashed skin
    Bleeding and sobbing, I had to face my fears and my cruel fate
    No refuge was granted to me
    No lovely embrace was going to welcome me
    I had lost all my hopes, and my longings were reduced to ashes
    I was condemned to wander endlessly in an abyss of doom
    Where I disappeared completely, and no memories of my existence were left
    Mortification and delirium were no longer my guardian demons, but the ominous and frightening flanks of myself

    How could I have deceived myself so recklessly?
    How could I have allowed myself to surrender to death?
    It was so brutal to admit that I had died ominously
    And moreover, that my name had been erased from the mortal realm
    My wishes of self-destruction had come true unexpectedly
    I was ensnared by the monsters I had birthed within myself
    They swallowed my heart each time I was overwhelmed by a passion
    I had become the creator of my own downfall
    Each flame of desire had transformed into a sharp dagger, piercing me with devout cruelty
    Nothing could have been stopped anymore
    I was condemned and obliterated.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • My Tainted Longings

    My Tainted Longings

    My tainted longings blossomed from the nocturnal obsessions that sought me in the mystery of darkness.

    I was a sensual creature living in a realm of impurity and decay, feeding myself on otherworldly lust.

    The devastation of my heart had turned me sharply to agony and lust. My melancholic unsaid words had become my delicate self-annihilation.

    My impaled heart bled copiously, blood and unapologetic everlasting flames. A myriad of claws clasped me as if they were the souls of burnt flowers.

    In this doomed realm, I was the only spell-casting enchantress, so much so that I dared to fantasise that every dream of mine had become a haunting obsession.

    I was feeling terribly sensual, willing to allure whoever crossed my path in the forest of despair and ripped hearts.

    I had lost my innocence centuries ago, when the stars still showed only their pure, divine sparkle, for now my obscene and corrupted soul was cast away by the very stars I had loved so tenderly.

    My tears melted the frosty soil into a swamp of blood and dust, my only cherished refuge where I could paint crimson roses and pitch-black ravens.

    I had been crowned the queen of ghouls in my phantasmagoria, where multitudes of claws strove to penetrate my body in every conceivable way.

    What I had been offered was a treasure chest filled with torn hearts and stardust. I belonged to the kingdom of oblivion and monstrosity.

    I could hear the languid moans of souls who had been inflicted with punishments as sharp as blood-thirsty thorns.

    I belonged to the void, and I had been forsaken by my fate. I was drowning in the infinite ocean of nothingness, and it seemed as if I had never been born.

    And that’s how I turned into an enraged shadow, among the endless expanses of emptiness.
    Elisabetta Esther

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