Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: castle of dreams

  • The Realm Of Crimson Roses

    The Realm Of Crimson Roses

    The realm of crimson roses was my treasure
    The secret haven of my desires for extravagant dreams
    The sweet and bewitching scent of the crimson roses drugged me
    It was like I drank the poison of oblivion for the very first time
    And I forgot my essence, bleeding my heart out

    I had visions and hallucinations like I was in an eternal sleep
    I saw beauty and magnificence in every corner of the castle of dreams
    Crying and smiling, I’ve finally found infinite delight in my abyss of anguish
    No pang could frighten me anymore because I was free
    Like a bird flying so high, it could touch the sky

    I belonged to the realm of crimson roses, and my heart was bound to it
    Through invisible chains made of love and death
    No slumber was necessary anymore because I was in a perpetual state of stupor
    Enchanted by a wicked spell cast over me, I could no longer abandon my state of captivity
    I was languidly mesmerised

    I surrendered to a throne of nightmares and dread
    It was made of crimson roses and adorned with long and sharp thorns
    So pointed were their punches pierced my heart
    Making me bleed until I became an ethereal creature of the night
    The pain freed me from fears and insecurities
    And I had not anymore a material body
    After all, I never lived in reality because I was born in the realm of nightmares and madness

    I knew not whether I dreamt or waked
    So dazed was my mind, I could not divine between vision and verity
    The realm of crimson roses could have been a spectre of my imagination
    Enchanting me like a nocturnal lullaby
    It suited my senses and hypnotised my heart
    A fleeting Utopia, born to wither with the dawn.
    Elisabetta

  • Crying To Death

    Crying To Death

    Crying to death until I lose all my fears
    Crying to death until my heart bleeds the last drop of grief
    I don’t remember my name anymore
    I come from a faraway realm where dreams are forbidden
    I wander astray in the labyrinth of my bleeding heart

    Not anymore comforted by solace and delight
    I strive to find refuge in my secret realm of illusions
    Because I love to lie to myself with shameless boldness
    Because I love to fill my heart with deception

    I’m untamed and wild, and I don’t bow to any convention
    It’s impossible to fit my soul inside a box of comfort
    Too many thoughts crowd my mind
    Too many emotions crowd my heart
    I’m a paroxysm, a burst of madness wrapped in the quietness of my sorrow

    I love to wear exclusively beautiful vintage-style dresses and ballerinas
    I love to wear red lipstick and red nail polish
    I never cut my long blond hair because they keep my little secrets for years discretely
    I love books but sometimes I keep them closed as if I would like to guess what is going to happen next in the story

    I mainly write night and day and I cannot see myself not writing even a day
    That would be like asking me not to breathe
    I suffer in silence when I am home alone so nobody can discover it
    I never plan what I’m going to write because I believe in improvisation in poetry
    I love cloudy skies but not the rain because it makes me feel miserable

    I love to be in love but I also love to be loved and adored
    Solitude and books are my best companions, indeed the only ones
    I adore art in all its forms, music, literature and art
    Sometimes I prefer to write in a direct way and simple style without labyrinths of metaphors

    Crying to death is a way to express myself when I’m suffering unbearably
    And when I don’t feel understood and seen by the other creatures of this planet or when memories come to visit me
    After all, we suffer mainly because of indifference or tainted interactions with other entities or because of something we don’t want to remember

    I feel like an alien creature not belonging to standard society and as an introvert it’s very difficult being part of this messed ocean where I never felt comfortable. So bizarre and odd I’m in the other’s sight that I cannot blend with them.
    Therefore, I dwell in my loneliness where I have built my castle of dreams.
    Elisabetta

  • Ecstatic Beauty

    Ecstatic Beauty

    Ecstatic beauty reigned in frenzies and storms
    In the castle of dreams, magnificence was shrouded in the mist of mystery
    A sanctuary of shining stars and dark shadows
    A throne of sagas and lost kingdoms
    Where secrets lingered in the silence of forgotten ages

    Listening to the melody of silence under the shadows of an ancient tree
    I rose from my slumber, thinking about my crushed dreams
    It was like my heart stopped pounding
    And I could feel pins of dismay piercing it
    Suddenly, I realised that I was a doll made of rags

    I was no longer in the material world of reality
    I was in a utopia that had the scent of nightmares
    The ecstatic beauty of my fantasies was disappearing
    Instead, I was surrounded by an overwhelming stillness
    While a suffocating silence pressed against my chest

    The colourful shades that once tinted my dreams faded into ashen hues
    And the aura was filled with regrets
    I felt the heft of forgotten longings
    As if the very ground beneath me was swallowing every fragment of my soul
    The dreams that once ignited my spirit now seemed distant luminaries

    All the stars were lost in the vast and endless abyss
    And I was alone, surrounded by fears and uncertainties
    The cold breeze that was once gentle now howled like an anguished wail
    Becoming the messenger of voices that had long since been hushed
    I strived to reach for something but I could only grasp the emptiness

    No ecstatic beauty was there anymore
    Indeed, it was a souvenir of the dreams I could never touch
    The darkness stretched endlessly
    Wrapping itself around me
    A cloak of gloom I could not escape

    In this realm, where no answer could have been found
    Only enigmas were echoing in the quietness
    And in that startling silence, I realized that my castle of dreams had crumbled to dust
    And I was just a forgotten soul left to wander its ruins.
    Elisabetta

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