Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: a english poem

  • Silent Darkness

    Silent Darkness

    Silent darkness lay among the garden of dreams and nightmares,
    Illusions and chimaeras blossomed into alluring flowers,
    Under the sight of a dark night sky studded with stars.

    Solemn promises of failed loves and altered desires were the guardians of this sacred alcove,
    A garden immersed in a silent darkness.

    Moonlight glimmered, illuminating the scene with a spectral glow,
    Casting shadows that moved with a ghostly grace.
    Fragments of forgotten vows were scattered through the still air,
    As the past intertwined itself with the present.

    Each petal was exhausted by the burden of memories,
    Infuse with the fragrance of longing and regret.
    The trees loomed eternal, their branches like skeletal arms,
    Reaching out to caress the fabric of the night.

    In this garden, time halted to flow,
    Instants frozen in a fragile web.
    Dreams entangled with nightmares,
    Creating an ethereal veil of beauty and despair.

    A mild breeze stirred the leaves of decay,
    A sigh of the universe manifesting in the dark night.
    A wind that carried the essence of lost yearnings,
    Revealing secrets to those who dared to imagine fantasy worlds.

    Beneath the ancient oak, a stone throne lay,
    Weathered by the passage of countless seasons.
    It kept the marks of periods of solace and delight,
    In the embrace of the garden’s silent refuge.

    The stars above bore a timeless glint,
    Glimpses of the tales created in this secret place.
    They shimmered like distant lanterns,
    Guiding daring wandered through the labyrinth of dreams.

    Silent darkness obscured the night,
    A solitary warder of the fragile beauty.
    It draped the garden in an eternal silence,
    Holding its enigmas in the chasms of the night.

    The secret garden was the dwelling of dreams and nightmares,
    Where delusions and mirages flourished,
    Silent darkness lingered as a timeless protection of an invisible realm.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Eternal Nightfall

    Eternal Nightfall

    Eternal nightfall in a world where shadows long did cling,
    A tale of sorrow began to be chanted.
    Under the cloak of darkness, despair ruled the night,
    A story of fate so cruel and senseless.

    A figure wandered, lost in plight,
    In haunted woods devoid of light.
    Each step was plump, each instant of life a duty,
    An ethereal ghost condemned forevermore.

    The stars cast down their eerie glare,
    On sights once bright, now dulled by dread.
    With every beat, the hearts did weep,
    For dreams that perished in shadows deep.

    The voice of the wind would moan,
    Of hopes that died and were left forsaken.
    No star was left above to guide the way,
    Just endless nights, no break of day.

    In twisted branches, secrets were kept,
    Of promises that fate had swept.
    An existence once vibrant was now a shell,
    A captive in an earthly nightmare.

    Eternal nightfall, no hope to chase, no dawn to see,
    Bound by chains of cruel decree.
    The echoes of a life once known,
    Now lost to time, forever blown.

    In silence cold, the figure wept,
    For all the dreams that were never kept.
    In the abyss where shadows feasted,
    Desires were ensnared, with no hope of being released.

    For in this tale of sorrow’s thread,
    All light had fled, and all joy was dead.
    So many victims of a fate so grim,
    No chance to fight, no hope within.

    Hence, the end of a tragic lore was determined,
    Once darkness reigned until the end of time.
    In the nothingness most profound, only fragments remained,
    No hope to live, no will to strive.

    In a realm of eternal sorrow and grief,
    Phantoms wept their weakness and frailty.
    No rescue arrived, no hope in sight,
    Only tears upon their hollow facades.

    Eternal nightfall, when the days were shadows and nights were dread,
    A world where even hope had fled.
    The trees whispered of doom and death,
    Their branches formed a sombre wreath.

    Desperate entities wandered through fog and mire,
    Dragging through the remnants of a pyre.
    The remembrance of a life once bright,
    Now completely swallowed by an eternal night.

    Memories of delight, now decayed,
    In the recesses of betrayed truths,
    Broken and erased dreams,
    A cruel fate with no redeeming seams.

    Haunted gazes envisioned ghouls by chance,
    In a cruel and mocking trance.
    They taunted with their spectral glee,
    Reminders of what could not be.

    The stars above had once been guides so clearly,
    Now distant, heartless, and filled with fear.
    Their light, a dagger to the heart,
    A cruel reminder, worlds apart.

    Eternal nightfall, each heartbeat was a painful toll,
    A bell that rang for a tortured soul.
    The silence screamed in endless waves,
    Echoing through forgotten graves.

    No voices came to soothe the night,
    No comfort for the endless plight.
    The shadows whispered tales of doom,
    Of lives confined to eternal gloom.

    In this world of sorrow, bleak and vast,
    The invisible hope was a long outcast.
    No light to pierce the suffocating haze,
    No dawn to break the endless daze.

    The ghost knelt in a silent plea,
    To force dark to misery.
    With nothing left, no strength to fight,
    Embracing the eternal night.

    Being this tale a cruel design,
    No threads of fate would intertwine.
    The end was near, a gust away,
    No expectancy to see another day.

    Eternal nightfall, in shadows profound, a final sigh,
    A soul surrendered a whispered cry.
    In the darkness, it forever lay,
    No desire to live, no light to stay.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Shadowed Passage

    The Shadowed Passage

    The shadowed passage rested at the heart of a forgotten manor,
    Past the majestic hall and beneath the stairs,
    Where time had left its mark in cold and dark layers,
    Thick with decay and secrets, it bore.

    A single candle’s dim light flickered,
    Casting grotesque shapes upon the ornate walls,
    Forms that moved and twisted eerily,
    With a life of their own in the shadows’ thrall.

    As one ventured deeper, chills gripped the bones,
    The oppressive silence was broken by a drip,
    The uneven floor, worn smooth by countless feet,
    Whispers rose like cold breath to nip.

    In the heart of the passage loomed a door,
    Marred by scratches from desperate attempts to flee,
    Pushing it open revealed a small, dark room,
    Dusty shelves and a chair facing the dark sea.

    From the depths of shadows, a figure emerged,
    More an absence of light than a form,
    Gliding silently with eerie grace,
    Its face was shown briefly with sorrow forlorn.

    Suddenly, the door slammed shut,
    The candle’s light extinguished in the obscurity,
    The whispers crescendoed into a cacophony,
    The figure reached out, and then it all went slack.

    The noise ceased as quickly as it had begun,
    The room remained empty save for a faint, eerie trace,
    The passage, once silent and foreboding,
    Now hummed with echoes of a haunting embrace.

    A chill swept through the manor’s very bones,
    As if the walls themselves were breathing deep,
    Ancient echoes as remembrances of forgotten moans,
    In the shadows where the restless spirits slept.

    The ceiling’s beams, aged and cracked, groaned faintly,
    Their weight seemed almost unbearable,
    Casting elongated, spectral and unsettling shades,
    A spectacle of the eerily intangible.

    In the far corner, a mirror stood covered in dust and fear,
    Reflecting only darkness and fading light,
    Its glass was a gateway to another time,
    Where memories twisted in the heart of each night.

    Steps lingered in the silence, slow and measured,
    Each echo was a relic of the passage’s curse,
    A place where past and present were forever tethered,
    A labyrinth of sighs, haunted and immersed.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Cursed Lighthouse

    The Cursed Lighthouse

    The cursed lighthouse stood up upon a cliff that stabbed the sky,
    The lighthouse stood in the wind and rain,
    Its beacon lost, its light gone dry,
    A relic cursed with endless pain.

    The waves below crashed cold and fierce,
    Their voices shrieking through the storm,
    The keeper’s cry, no soul to pierce,
    Echoes in the sea’s forlorn form.

    Its lantern room, now dark and bare,
    Once held the light to guide the lost,
    But now it waited in black despair,
    A beacon to the tempest’s cost.

    The keeper’s ghost still roamed the stairs,
    His footsteps echoed in the gale,
    A sorrowed man who knew the tales,
    Of mariners lost in the night’s labyrinth.

    The wind howled through the broken glasses,
    Its fury was tempered by regret,
    A haunting wail, a memory’s pass,
    Of lives lost to the sea’s dark bet.

    The foghorn’s moan, a mournful call,
    Rang out across the bitter sea,
    Yet no one heard its sorrowed fall,
    For all were lost to eternity.

    The cursed lighthouse stood, a spectral guard,
    It lights a memory of old,
    A curse upon its stones was marred,
    A tale of sorrow, dark and cold.

    And so it waited upon the cliff,
    To tell its tale through the tempest’s roar,
    A monument to those adrift,
    And the keeper’s soul always.

    The rain poured down in ghostly sheets,
    Its rhythm was lost in the ocean’s cry,
    The lighthouse wept as darkness met,
    The roiling waves that never died.

    Each lightning flash revealed the past,
    Of shipwrecked souls and broken dreams,
    Their voices lingered, shadows cast,
    In the storm’s relentless screams.

    The beacon’s light, once fierce and bright,
    Now, it faded into the tempest’s dread,
    A spectral glow in endless night,
    Where hope and light have been since dead.

    The keeper’s vigil never ended,
    His curse bound him to the storm,
    In waves and winds, his spirit wended,
    A haunting shape, forever mourned.

    Through mist and night, the story’s told,
    Of sorrow deep and spirits old.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Ruins Of Failed Dreams

    Ruins Of Failed Dreams

    Ruins of failed dreams stroke the leaves of the tree of death,
    Chaotically swirling in the emptiness of the minacious infinite abyss,
    Where obliviousness ruled as a supreme force,
    Bending the realms of beauty and delight.

    Whispers of regret and anguish became an open book of archaic tales,
    Secrets were sealed by the raindrops of darkness in the treasure chest of folly,
    Last forever and always was the hope of a better world,
    Once, dizziness overwhelmed every sense.

    Every regretful thought disappeared,
    Like a faded vision of lost memories and instants,
    Melting in the chaotic mirage of a crumbling universe,
    In the stillness of the darkness.

    Ruins of failed dreams lay dead like burnt stars,
    Not anymore gleaming through the veil of the night,
    Just miserable mementoes of what was once magnificent and exquisite,
    End of a world of fleeting illusions and ephemeral splendour.

    Echoes of forgotten desires haunted the tranquil blankness,
    And the shadows of despair clung to the remnants of broken mirrors,
    Lost in the endless hallways of time and space,
    In a desolate expanse where yesteryears and hereafter faded away.

    The ghosts of forsaken dreams drifted like spectral wraiths,
    With mournful sighs mingling with the cold winds of oblivion,
    As the last glimmer of expectations succumbed to the relentless night.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Magnificent Wilderness

    The Magnificent Wilderness

    The magnificent wilderness of my dreams
    Through the world’s magic abysses
    The firmament rises and goes
    Beyond the way of life
    Beyond the way of death
    A bright and glistening sight
    Where stars move around an everlasting blaze
    And most of the endearing memories fall down like old leaves
    Sometimes nothing is heard but sadness
    Never forgotten
    Always lost

    The magnificent wilderness of night
    And above all, the dying stars
    Faint and sighing
    Like many excellent and memorable mementoes collapsing
    Trying to impress under the beauty of the uselessness
    Water, rain and wind shine translucent
    In a sudden moment of reality
    No gift is left
    The time arrived to die and begin again
    Bright and lasting forever
    At midnight when the rainbow rises

    The magnificent wilderness of life
    The night is a dream
    Every instant is overjoyed by a state of beauty
    An icy shiver of delight and panic
    Dwelling among dreadful dreams and shattered hopes
    I stand alone in the misery of my futile discontent
    And the deep sky is not in black and gold
    When the green is never seen
    There is only a silver ray in front of trees falling down
    The beautiful leaves are scattered in the wind
    Where the sunlight fades high, touching the stars

    The magnificent wilderness
    When nature’s colours blend
    Blooming softly
    A flower’s blossom is like a diamond
    Many suns created more flowers
    Shared all over the earth
    Like in a dream full of surprises
    To bring relief to a horrid reality
    My mind becomes lost in an endless journey
    With no way back
    Lost in struggles

    The magnificent wilderness of darkness
    A mountain tree made of gold
    My voice is silent within my heart
    On a lonely way
    Remembering the past bliss
    Dreaming about stars and darkness
    As they would come onto the planet every day
    Pretending that everywhere wouldn’t be any sadness
    With no future trials or strife
    The grace of beauty and mystery would glow
    No more to be revealed.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Unique And Infinite Shadow Of My Mind

    The Unique And Infinite Shadow Of My Mind

    The unique and infinite shadow of my mind
    Whilst the beauty is flowing in my dreams
    Someday I loved every single thing in each season
    Of which, like this, in this moment.
    For a while, my thoughts have lost all beauty
    As are still one more time so lovely to the beholder
    I love so much to be happy with beautiful visions
    As ideas and words are always to be heard
    Love,
    It might be only a delightful and phantasmagorical
    Nothing can go through my mind before night
    Every day is a picture of the love for my life
    And at first, every metamorphosis should be discovered in a marvel
    At the edges of time
    In the Universe, every tremendous conquest is a journey bound to eternity
    A year becomes a month, a month a day and a day an hour

    The unique and infinite shadow of my mind
    Feeling the utopia while nightmares resurface
    Where I become my own muse with magical powers
    To transform my life, my soul and my endless visions
    Every night I surrender to the tides of oblivion and silence
    Everything is in deep slumber because the storm cannot appear
    Trying to build a mere idea that cannot be found
    Daring to live pretending that everything is love
    When wishes would embrace being born in an idyllic world
    In a manifestation of life and death
    Once all the hopes disappear in an obscene dismal
    Some lives after existence resurface in an eternal bliss
    Lasting forever
    For love only grasp some hearts
    Every free thought enjoys only a limited dash

    The unique and infinite shadow of my mind is nature
    I see the wonder and the worlds in the firmament
    Being the Universe an outstanding creation made of beauty and mystery,
    darkness and light, endless unknown and limited knowledge
    An ancient mystery without days and nights
    My heart discovered poetry in my dreams
    Loving, day by day
    The facade had faded, and names I knew became obscure
    A noteworthy moment in life
    When dates are removed from the time
    And just the shadows are heard, and the day evolves into death
    The time departed from life
    A newly created fantasy left the mind without delight
    Fighting the loss and death
    Although everything became written
    Not a single certitude is destined to return
    And it lies in the profundity of despair and thoughtlessness
    The blades of my thoughts cut my soul into pieces
    And bleeding, I stand helpless.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah