Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: apathy

  • Nonsense In The Evening

    Nonsense In The Evening

    Nonsense in the evening
    Sad and apathetic, I abandoned myself to nonsense
    As I was supposed to be someone with no state of mind
    Indeed, I had no aims or plans

    I felt like a dead leaf falling from a tree
    I felt like a pinwheel that spins empty under the influence of the wind
    Was I supposed to feel something other than discontent?
    It might be as I was listening to the birds singing in the tree

    And so the evening passed like the flowing of a quiet river
    Unperturbed by what was around me
    Because the abyss of anguish was enticing me
    Trapping me in a dungeon of sorrow and dismay
    As I had the certitude that there was no hope for me

    Dreaming and deluding myself has always dragged me into a labyrinth of darkness and decay
    A storm of turmoil invested me
    Leaving me astray
    Faraway from any horizon of sanity

    Emptiness became my realm of fancy
    Although I have always aspired to belong to a different kingdom
    Where the dust of stars would fall over me
    Enlighting me with their comforting and candid glow

    The towering and outstanding sight of my nightmares was hypnotising me
    And I could not avoid to flee from them
    As they cast a wicked spell on me
    To eternally suffer from all the most ominous hoaxes

    Shuttered windows were in front of me
    The windows to my dreams and desires were cruelly sealed
    Nonsense in the evening was my special date
    No stars were present in my nocturnal sky
    No moon was there to wait for me

    All my sparkling wishes faded into the infinite decadence
    Because I belonged only to decadence and I longed to be surrounded by dust of decay
    The decay of my wisdom and certainty was the only certitude I cherished in my treasure chest
    And all that could remain in my heart was nonsense in the evening of my day.
    Elisabetta

  • Static Metamorphosis

    Static Metamorphosis

    Static Metamorphosis
    by Esther Elizabeth Racah

    Static metamorphosis bloomed in a night of apathy,
    Lugubrious thoughts knocked on the door of the imagination,
    In nightmares and dreams, the sound of anguish tasted bitter like poison,
    Death always waited, a loyal follower of those who dared to wander the infinite darkness.

    Absurdities became the fabric of an invisible realm,
    Where logic faltered and crumbled into dust,
    A forgotten world on the edge of existence,
    Drowning beneath waves of incoherence.

    Shadows twisted and intertwined,
    Carved hollow paths through the abyss,
    Led to nowhere, yet everywhere at once,
    As if time itself had untangled,
    A delicate thread snapped in the winds of fate.

    Familiar faces faded into the void,
    Distorted echoes of what they once were,
    Now mere spectres, hollow shells,
    Lost in the labyrinth of a broken mind.

    In that eerie stillness,
    The heart of despair beat softly,
    Rhythms of sorrow pulsed through the veins,
    A macabre dance with unseen forces,
    Invisible hands pulled strings in the puppet show of life.

    Static metamorphosis spread like a silent plague,
    Consuming every thought, every flicker of hope,
    Turning moments into fragments,
    Scattered like ashes in a windless sky.

    Each breath felt heavy, burdened with the weight of inevitability,
    As moments slipped like sand through outstretched fingers,
    Fleeting, intangible, impossible to grasp.

    The walls of the mind closed in,
    A prison built from fragments of shattered hopes,
    Each brick was a memory,
    Each corner was darkened by fear.

    Amidst the decay,
    A trace of something hollow remained,
    A distant light, dim and fading,
    Barely there but clinging,
    A futile thread in a world resigned to despair.

    Static metamorphosis claimed the dreams,
    Wrapped it in layers of uncertainty and doubt,
    Tore at the edges of reality,
    Transforming it into a place of neither light nor shadow,
    Suspended in the void of oblivion.

    The dreams grappled with this silent force,
    Torn between the pull of oblivion and the glimpse of survival,
    Clawed at the fabric of its own existence,
    Strained to break free from the suffocating stillness.

    But the metamorphosis had already taken root,
    A relentless transformation within,
    One that neither light nor dark could fully claim,
    A state of perpetual becoming,
    Suspended between the realms of being and nothingness.

    In the end,
    As the final veil of darkness descended,
    The metamorphosis remained incomplete,
    An eternal process frozen in time,
    A silent monument to the fragile nature of existence.

    Static metamorphosis lingered eternally,
    Gloomy clouds in the labyrinth of expectations,
    A reminder that once change begins,
    It could never indeed be undone.

  • A Bleak Mirage

    A Bleak Mirage

    A Bleak Mirage

    A bleak mirage of dazzling light
    Beyond imagination and illusion
    There is a world without dimensions
    Where stardust sparkles perpetually
    And everything is a mirage
    Hallucinations and nightmares feed on corrupted fantasies
    Everything is delusion
    Dismay cannot save
    A peaceful resignation is a key to survival
    For those spirits who dare to live
    Apathy and weakness fill the universe of the dead souls
    Chaos dwells in the eternity of an instant
    Dimness flourishes in the mystery of existence
    Ethereal and eternal is the realm of dreams
    Light and darkness merge into the abyss of the concealed and secret universe.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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