Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: blood

  • A Heart Of Stone

    A Heart Of Stone

    A heart of stone and blood was mine in the afterlife
    In my underworld abode full of evanescent masks and weeping phantoms
    A magic tower of spells touching the sky and the metallic moons
    Surrounded by soft clouds and dead trees

    Each mask whispered terrible secrets to me
    While smiling like court jesters inside the unbreakable walls of my castle
    A castle made of bones and blood of my enemies
    Beneath the shining firmament visited by the moons with many countenances

    I was the queen of the tragic world of pity and descend
    My decadence made a throne for me, carved in sorrow
    And there I lingered, dressed in shining sparkles and moonlight
    My gown was forged with threads of sighs and desires

    My gown was the manifestation of sighs and desires
    Eerie candles with their trembling flames cast light upon my visions
    Longings coiled like serpents made of smoke
    The walls wept decayed memories and each mirror was a doorway to arcane mysteries

    My absolute silence was a hymn to all I had lost
    The moons grieved the weight of my dismay
    An eternal ghost similar to myself waited for me beyond my crystal windows
    Ruins and beauty crowned me their sovereign

    My destiny was engraved in shadow and starlight
    I wandered in the labyrinth of forsaken fortunes
    I felt that the ancient soil trembled beneath my steps
    My heart was still carved from stone, seeking solace in vain

    I couldn’t break free from the chains of my own sorrow
    Although I reached for my reflection in the mirror
    And I knew that this was the fate I had chosen
    I knew I belonged to the occult underworld as an ethereal creature of darkness.
    Elisabetta

  • The Embrace Of The Shadows

    The Embrace Of The Shadows

    The embrace of the shadows woke me up
    It was midnight, and I had fallen deep into the ocean of dreams
    Crimson roses had blossomed around me
    I was wandering in the luscious garden of lust

    I had become a creature of the darkness
    I was the bride of an incubus who chased me in my nightmares
    He visited me every eternal night
    Draining me of my blood and soul

    My supernatural existence was entwined with decay and grief
    While my demon claimed me as his devoted servant
    Mesmerised by his enchantment
    I let him bind me in chains

    His poisonous kisses intoxicated me
    I felt bewitched and hypnotised by his presence
    He followed me wherever I went
    Taking the form of a magnificent crow

    I was crying blood while a crown of red roses and thorns was resting upon my hair
    A symbol of my enduring anguish that I cherished with devotion
    My heart was pierced by daggers of passion and torment
    I was bound eternally to my divine master

    I was obsessively enslaved by fervour and pain
    I found endless delight in every pang he inflicted
    For each bleeding wound, I felt an ecstatic pleasure
    The chains around my body made me feel free

    In the embrace of the shadows
    I had become a creature of the darkness
    My dark wings carried me, enticed by the lullabies of nightfall
    Following my beloved ghoul in the wilderness of darkness and oblivion

    I was merrily doomed and I sank deeper into the abyss of forbidden desires
    Conscious I was not anymore and my senses overwhelmed my mind
    I was the darkness, the shadows and the abyss of oblivion
    My dark sovereign had taken complete possession of me
    And I felt a blissful euphoria inside myself
    We were the same creatures
    Made of lust, grief, and ecstatic decay.
    Elisabetta

  • The Twilight of Ruin

    The Twilight of Ruin

    The twilight of ruin decayed among shadows
    A magnificent graveyard of dreams and desires
    I had to die many times in order to live again
    Terrifying statues were starring to me
    Their eyes made of thorns carved sorrow on my face
    They were the guardians I had buried inside my heart

    The dry tree branches were sharp claws trying to clasp me
    Their elongated roots reached my gown
    Dragging me impetuously towards the secret underworld
    As if death reclaimed me as its precious possession
    And that stillness so soft and pale was a spell for my final demise
    I knew immediately that I was languidly dying

    I was a belonging of the realm of death
    An eternal flame of doom burned inside my heart
    I became an immortal creature of darkness
    A dark fairy flying over the garden of withered roses
    No passions could be reanimated since they faded away
    Blue and grey hues of melancholy tinted my dress

    I felt a fabulous and decadent flower of the night
    I lived an existence of perpetual night and decay
    I loved my seclusion and loneliness beneath a gloomy and cloud sky
    Shadows and ghosts were my loyal companions
    The blades of the rose thorns made me bleed,
    kissing my lips
    The exquisite scent of coffins lingered in the gloom

    I was free and ethereal, like the crimson petal of a rose
    I was not anymore afraid to lose everything once was my belongings
    I was dead and bound to the eternal realm of nothingness
    Devoted and loyal to my grief and anguish, I was married to the dark, eternal hush
    The echoes of the dead alive clung to me like mourning veils
    And I danced, lost beneath the indifferent gaze of the moon at the twilight of ruin.
    Elisabetta

  • The Portal To Emptiness

    The Portal To Emptiness

    The portal to emptiness was waiting for me
    In hesitation and doubt, I didn’t feel any comfort
    I didn’t trust what I was seeing or hearing
    All I could be assured of was a feeling of uncertainty

    It was as if I was living one of my several lives
    Foolishly embracing my madness with such joy
    Even the wind was terrified by me in its impetuosity
    Being myself, a little tornado of intense emotions

    Left by myself in my extreme solitude
    I sought refuge from my overwhelming grief
    Grief towering over me like a monumental demon
    Making me an insolent creature of the night

    Chasing darkness, I have finally found myself deep
    On the ocean floor of my imagination
    In my realm of wonders and chimeras
    I desired to find my utopic idyll

    My dreams touched me night and day
    All over my body like soft strokes
    Fantasies pierced my heart making it bleed
    With their sweet and sharp daggers

    I became a crimson rose, with all my petals tainted by blood
    And pointed thorns as powerful as diamond gems
    Although I was crying for my freedom from my roots and cold soil
    I had to surrender to my slavery

    And I could only dream over and over again without hope
    I cried and sobbed like a winter storm
    And I felt needles stabbing all my petals
    Arrows of anguish and awareness of my impending decay

    Nothing anymore could have released me from my huge distress and dismay
    I was merely a red rose and nothing more
    One of the several red roses of an ordinary city garden
    Nothing anymore could have been important to me

    The portal to emptiness was in front of me
    And now, I was made of dust and decay
    Decadence was my name and like a butterfly pinned on a wall
    I remained still as a crystal rose standing on a barren earth.
    Elisabetta

  • My Heart Is Made Of Ink

    My Heart Is Made Of Ink

    My heart is made of ink and blood
    My heart is made of fantasy and dreams
    Surreal place of celestial beauty and stars
    An enigmatic and impenetrable domain

    A realm where thoughts are tangled in fragile webs
    And spectral creatures swirl beneath the silvery light of forsaken moons
    While silent winds carry tales from ancient fables
    Under a sky brushed with infinite hues

    In this realm, I am both adrift and entwined
    My heart is bound to the ink that flows through my veins
    My entire body is blooming like a flower of rhymes
    Where verses unfurl from my petals and thorns

    A world tempest of emotions surges in my heart
    Crumbling my essence into the dust of decay
    Carving elegies upon the hollow firmament
    Where no stars are allowed to shine

    The constellation of startling stars dissolves into the abyss of emptiness
    The obscure chasm that stretches in front of me
    Alluring me in its terrifying emptiness to swallow my soul
    While letters are dripping from my fingers like midnight raindrops

    I became part of the eternity of the abyssal night
    I am no longer bound by shapes or names,
    I dissolve into the void of eternity,
    Like a tiny snowflake lost in the stillness of oblivion

    My desires are fading into the marrow of the darkness
    Within the silence, mysterious secrets are engraved in the bones of dreadful shadows
    And unspoken ballads are waiting to be unconcealed
    An inextinguishable flame is burning and flickering within the core of twilight

    I am drowning in the deep abysm
    Although even in the most profound darkness, ink still flows like blood from my heart
    And my insolent utterances burn against the void
    A ghostly glimmer where stars once shone

    My heart is made of ink and darkness
    My heart is a requiem of dreams and sorrows
    A secret alcove veiled by the mist of silent elegies.
    Elisabetta

  • 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 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

  • Extravagant Flowers

    Extravagant Flowers

    Extravagant flowers bloomed under the shape of luscious desires,
    In the nighttime darkness, they glowed in all their lush,
    A manifestation of fearlessness and carelessness veiled in madness.

    Bleeding flowers blossomed in the garden of doom,
    Where the land was soaked in blood and tears,
    Profane dreams were made of darkness and sorrow,
    Surrounded by the scent of dirty nightmares.

    Every statue in this luscious park was corrupted by the scent of frivolity,
    A labyrinth where completely oblivious travellers, delusional romantics,
    Wandered, losing themselves amidst the shadows of hollow trees.

    A storm of horror overwhelmed the garden,
    A blast of fear tormented the extravagant flowers,
    Leaving crystal blood drops to shine bright under the pale moonlight of dreadful dreams,
    Among the twisted branches of trees, where shadows swirled in trepidation.

    Time no longer existed in this realm of manias and insanity,
    Luscious blossoms became bleeding flowers during ominous nightmares,
    In a secret realm where turmoil ruled supreme,
    The garden of beauty and blood nourished itself on a storm of horrors.

    Sanity had lost its battle against the dominant frenzy,
    Foolish desires ruled this magical, decaying world,
    Where lavish and extravagant flowers bloomed in wild beauty,
    And the sanguinary blossoms thrived in their crimson, sorrowful decay.

    Fountains of amnesia adorned the garden,
    Their waters glistened a red glow under a darkened sky,
    Whispering promises of freedom, although they lured only deeper into oblivion,
    With their aromatic bleeding petals wet with forsaken tears.

    Extravagant flowers intoxicated the air with their fragrance of opulence,
    A perfume that clouded all the senses,
    Numbing reason and igniting insatiable longings
    For more—more dreams, more madness, more of this luscious delirium.

    This luscious maze, once filled with beauty, spiralled into a darkened utopia,
    Where bleeding flowers and lush desires intertwined,
    Feeding on the decay, the obsessions, and the fleeting hopes of delusional hearts.
    Its embrace was eternal, a cold and empty trap,
    Where the most dreadful agony wielded the most power.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Entropy Dreams

    Entropy Dreams

    Entropy dreams,
    Fragments of utopia scatter in the emptiness,
    In a whirlwind of forsaken dreams,
    Silent screams come to be louder,
    In the void, nothing is what it seems.

    Stars weep, their light fading fast,
    Time disintegrates, a mere illusion,
    The cosmos laughs, a cosmic jest,
    Existence crumbles in confusion.

    Shadows swirl with unseen chains,
    Life’s meaning slips through broken mirrors,
    In the chaos, only doom remains,
    A bitter taste of despair lingers.

    Ethereal entities move with severed ropes,
    Controlled by unscrupulous needles,
    A spectacular show of futile things,
    A game of illusions and cruel wills.

    Stars search for new realms in endless nights,
    Ghouls beat to rhythms of despair,
    Wandering flames grasp at straws of fleeting light,
    Before dissolving in the nothingness.

    An embrace of the void, deprived of hope,
    Chaos, a precious place of the final phase,
    In the end, there is only the abyss of solitude and annihilation,
    Entropy dreams, like a cold and relentless embrace.

    Slowly, the wind moves every delight away,
    Dizziness and anguish like heavy rain,
    During long nights of dismal nightmares,
    Visions of death and tears.

    Blood drops on the stones of ancient times,
    Like red roses blossoming in thorns,
    An invisible dungeon without escape,
    Buried alive dreams.

    At the ends of the universe, forgotten and forlorn,
    Fates and fortunes entwine in macabre proms,
    Legends of chaos, haunting mournings,
    Lost in the labyrinths of chance and oddity.

    Thoughts unravel, threads of wisdom fray,
    Spectres of expectancy drift away in the abyss,
    Beneath the stars’ apathetic glance,
    Entropy dreams surrender to the darkness.

    Void’s clasp, cruel and relentless,
    A garden of despair and sorrow,
    While every memory is a faint reality,
    As the darkness devours the light.

    Tangled in the web of destiny,
    Time ticks to the rhythm of decay,
    In the end, it was too late, too late to reprieve,
    Lost in the grasp of entropy and chaos.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • An Apathetic Wonder

    An Apathetic Wonder

    An apathetic wonder at the sight of all the future catastrophes
    A meaningful fear traps me and pulls me into the abyss of obscurity
    Ghosts and spectres are my eager companions
    Being in many places in one day
    Travelling time quickly in a preternatural form
    A glare of light and fire pretended to scare me
    Everything was a dream of a vision
    And suddenly, the present night appears
    No more complaints when the world would outcast

    An apathetic wonder like a golden morning candle
    For another cold scent of winter
    When the rain does not stop pouring on the streets
    In the heat
    And my blood is frozen like the winter snow
    The beautiful colours of stars become flowers
    All of a sudden
    A mystery which never existed has been the truth on earth
    Trying to forget distasteful memories

    An apathetic wonder of the sky
    Every time a desire becomes complex
    Every moment of happiness and sorrow
    It cannot happen again
    An opportunity for the mind
    Incurable wounds of the soul
    Nothing but excellent astonishments
    The water is everywhere, coming from the blue
    Creating a vast ocean of tears and sighs

    An apathetic wonder
    Being busy living within my soul
    Those ancient memories
    From every place of my mind
    Passing along with my own dreams
    The sky is pure and dark
    A lovely gloomy air
    Where I cannot perceive any colour or sound
    During an infinite journey in my subconscious

    An apathetic wonder in a light storm
    Winged like nothing else
    My words fly away
    Toward a remote invisible place
    Where every kind of bliss and pain was dwelling
    Once the sun was gone
    As a gilded sign of merriment
    And red roses were made of silver and gold
    My heart could not beat anymore in delight
    Because my dreams were open doors.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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