Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: castle

  • 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 Castle of Stone

    The Castle of Stone

    The castle of stone arose majestically amid the hills where shadows lay,
    The castle stood beneath the cloudy sky,
    Its towers stretched like skeletal hands,
    Grasping at clouds that shift like sands.

    A mournful wind, it softly moaned,
    Through broken halls and cracked old stones,
    The walls were adorned with dust and time,
    Once echoes of a distant chime.

    The ivy crawled in twisted veins,
    A silent witness to the pains,
    That haunted these chambers where darkness crept,
    Where secrets bled, and phantoms wept.

    The moonlight spilt like liquid frost,
    Illuminating souls long lost,
    Their whispers drifted on chilling air,
    The dead’s lament, a ghostly prayer.

    In shadowed corners, eyes unseen,
    Watched over things that might have been,
    A shiver stirred within the night,
    The stones remembered, felt, and frightened.

    The floorboards groaned with every step,
    As if they woke from ages slept,
    spectres formed where cold mist flowed,
    In passages like winding groves.

    The tapestries, though moths devoured,
    Portrayed some ancient, dreaded hour,
    Of blood and grief and fates unknown,
    Told in the silence of the stone.

    Above, the clock stroke one last chime,
    Its hand now stilled by death and time,
    A voice that echoed through the halls,
    And faded away like distant calls.

    A door ajar, a flickering light,
    It beckoned through the endless night,
    However, none may have passed who entered whole,
    Because here, the castle kept its toll.

    Its chambers stretched, labyrinth mazes,
    Where dawn will never pierce the haze,
    And those who sought to find a way,
    They went lost forever in its sway.

    The ancient hearth lay cold and bare,
    No fire shall ever kindle there,
    But ashes held the ghosts of flame,
    And laments echoed of a name.

    A name once carved on marble cold,
    Now weathered by the years untold,
    It faded as dust on twilight’s breath,
    A fleeting shadow kissed by death.

    The garden’s wrought with thorns and vines,
    Where roses once did twist and twine,
    Now black as pitch, they drooped and died,
    Beneath the starless, vacant sky.

    The heart of the castle of stone beat faint and slow,
    Its pulse a thrum from long ago,
    A relic of a world forgotten,
    Where life and death entwined and decayed.

    No mortal traces stirred the chilling gloom,
    The air grew stale as heavy doom,
    And time itself did seem to slow,
    As stone entombed, all that did grow.

    In this place where darkness reigned,
    The past’s despair forever stained,
    And every echo, every groan,
    Lived on within the castle of stone.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Crumbled Castle of Lost Expectations

    The Crumbled Castle of Lost Expectations

    The crumbled castle of lost expectations stood in ruins beneath an indifferent sky,
    Its arches bent, its towers broken,
    Its promises faded away too soon.

    Winds howled through the hollowed halls,
    Where once the fate bright had shone.
    Dreams drifted like the autumn leaves,
    Long dead but never entirely gone.

    Shattered windows framed the sky,
    Where hope once rose but now fell fast.
    The crumbled castle of lost expectations
    Watched as time dragged out the past.

    Its walls had held such hopes and dreams,
    But those were buried deep in stone.
    Each vow, each word, each fleeting thought,
    Eroded by time, cold and alone.

    Forgotten by the world outside,
    Its gates, once open, were now closed tight.
    A monument to loss and grief,
    It drowned in the depth of endless night.

    The crumbled castle of lost expectations was a haven once,
    But like all things, it too decayed,
    Its walls were too frail to endlessly endure.

    There were relics and memories from years gone by,
    But now they were just ghosts in the air.
    Colours and glimmers, faint, like shadows passed,
    Through corridors that lead nowhere.

    A kingdom built on fragile hope,
    Now overtaken by despair.
    Every dream that once gleamed radiant now lay broken,
    Scattered everywhere.

    Vines crept over forgotten doors,
    Their tendrils strangled what remained,
    And ivy choked the marble floors,
    In time’s indifferent, endless chains.

    The crumbled castle of lost expectations witnessed the love that turned to dust.
    No joy remained, no delight, no glow,
    Only fragments of misplaced trust.

    Each stone, once laid with tender hands,
    Now crumbles under sorrow’s poundage.
    The days grew long, the nights grew cold,
    And silence sealed its final fate.

    A tower, once monumental, collapsed in pain,
    Its windows were ravaged, stained with tears.
    It fell not with a roar or cry,
    But with a whisper through the years.

    The shattered castle of forsaken dreams stood now as a tomb to all that was gone,
    A hollow relic of dreams once lustrous,
    And lives that flickered out at dawn.

    No sun will rise, no dawn will break,
    No voices will call out its name.
    Only the wind will mourn its fate,
    And time will erase its fleeting flame.

    A silent ghost whose memories were too faint to be kept.
    The crumbled castle of lost expectations fell to dust and ceased to exist.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Dreadful Dreams

    Dreadful Dreams

    Dreadful dreams in darkness brewed,
    The world outside in silence stewed.
    A chill hung thick as whispers weaved,
    Through hollow halls, where none believed.

    A castle loomed, its walls decayed,
    Where time had stopped and light delayed.
    Through labyrinths that none had known,
    They wandered there, each one alone.

    Figures rose from meadows like thorns,
    With eyes that bled and voices steeped,
    In sorrows long since left unsaid,
    Now, pulling dreamers to the dead.

    Dreadful dreams, where shadows crept,
    Beneath their lids, no restful sleep.
    The night grew cold, the visions swayed,
    In twisted forms, the mind was betrayed.

    No way to flee, no path to run,
    For night devoured every sun.
    The walls grew impenetrable, the air was poison,
    And trapped everyone in an endless prison.

    In the silence, whispers of fright,
    Haunted souls wander, lost from sight.
    Each gust a toil, each step a plight,
    As darkness consumed every fading light.

    Dreadful dreams, where mirrors cracked,
    And whispers from the void slammed.
    A thousand clouds lost in space,
    All seeking what they couldn’t chase.

    Souls entwined with endless fear,
    Never to wake, forever near.
    The moon, once full, was now cracked and pale,
    Its silver light began to fail.

    And as the fading shades crept,
    The dreamers into silence wept.
    The night consumed all hopes and screams,
    And left them bound to dreadful dreams.

    Dreadful dreams wandered like shades of night,
    Whispered softly beneath dark skies.
    Each dwelling became a fearsome sight,
    As shadows moved in the dimming light.

    Desires entwined with seizing dread,
    Wandering everywhere, but hope had fled.
    Each secret carried tales of woe,
    As spectres flickered, fast and slow.

    In the gloom, no spark remained,
    No bright memory could have been preserved.
    The dreamers sought the light once more,
    But shadows beckoned from the shore.

    Dreadful dreams chased every fleeting glow,
    Finding themselves in depths below.
    With every instant, the darkness grew,
    A truth obscured, a world askew.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Castle By The Ocean

    The Castle By The Ocean

    The castle by the ocean stood on a cliff ruled by shadows at night,
    An ancient, towering fortress, fierce and fantastic, haunted and forlorn.
    It rose from the rock, a sentinel of stone and memory,
    Bearing witness to countless storms, its walls were stroked by time and tide.

    Waves mild and intense disclosed secrets long heretofore,
    Stories of love and death, of struggles fought and lives surrendered.
    In the moon’s pale, ghostly glares, spectres roamed the halls at dusk,
    Their steps echoed through the aisles, a mournful melody.

    Turrets pierced through the mist, emerged scornful against the sky,
    Their silhouettes were a stark contrast to the swirling fog below.
    Windows, once alive with lamps, now gazed upon the sea,
    Stares of sorrow, dark and unbound, reflected the endless expanse.

    The castle’s gates, long rusted shut, held tales of ancient treasures,
    Of kings and queens, of fearless knights, their legends carved in gravel.
    The castle by the ocean with walls carved by time and storms kept secret stories from days sunk in oblivion,
    Each pebble bore the weight of a history’s silent song.

    Mirrors of the past stuck around inside every tormented chamber,
    In each stone, a hidden misery and a remembrance were entombed.
    The ballroom, now empty, once rang with giggle and mirth,
    Feasts and proms, melodies raised, celebrating life and inception.

    The castle by the ocean sobbed, a lament to the sky,
    Where restless spirits never perished, bound to this earthly realm.
    They wandered through the twilight, shades of what once was,
    Guardians of forgotten lore lost in time’s relentless haze.

    The library, with dusty tomes, held knowledge long since known,
    Books of wisdom, spells, and dreams, their pages now unattended.
    Cobwebs draped the chandeliers, their crystals dull and silver,
    Once sparkling at the candlelight, now dimmed by centuries’ decay.

    The courtyard, overgrown with wild shrubs, where flowers used to bloom,
    Now lay as silent witness to nature’s quiet doom.
    However, the castle by the ocean stood firm, defiant against time,
    A relic of a bygone era, preserved in sorrow’s tears.

    The castle by the ocean became a monument to the past,
    An ancient, towering fortress, severe and feral, tormented and desolate.
    Its heritage, etched in stone and sea, whispered on the wind,
    A tale of unyielding resolve, where ghouls endlessly persisted.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Castles In The Air

    Castles In The Air

    Castles in the air,
    An emotional journey inside myself,
    Losing faith in humanity,
    Always on the edge of survival,
    Constantly too aware and sensitive,
    It was not essential to know which colour the sky was,
    Since, at the end of the day, every sigh and disillusionment arrived as soon as the darkness enveloped my imagination.
    Living without windows in my castle in the air,
    Living of mysteries and secrets of obscure alcoves,
    Every time I did my own journey into the labyrinth of my mind,
    Faraway, in the forest of my reminiscences, I lost myself, forgetting who I really was.
    Once upon a time, melancholy ensnared me, confining me in a dark dungeon of despair and anguish.
    Would have loved to be emotionally unavailable, but it was not the case.
    Awakening with no regrets and the folly of fearing every single instant, surrounded only by silence and twilight.
    No expectations would have implied any disappointments in the mere illusion of leaving a lasting mark on the ephemeral canvas of existence.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Dark Nightmares

    Dark Nightmares

    Dark nightmares of morning glow
    They were rising like a gentle breeze
    Like heavy clouds begun to wander
    Across the infinite horizon of my sight
    The pleasant summer nights faded from my memories
    Till the moon came gently down and my eyes gazed a far candle
    In a dark chamber of grey stones
    Remembering the sunny weather of the past years
    I never ceased to build my castle
    Writing down broken notes

    Dark nightmares
    As all the visions from a distant past are gone
    And now my nightmares are glued with pains
    When memories become dark, the whole world disappears
    Cold dreams are like the frosty winter wind
    In time I must flee, and my voice becomes true
    As long as I’m alive and anguish pricks my heart
    I live in a dim silence
    A lotus grazes my imagination
    Still lost within myself

    Dark nightmares of my senses’ slumber
    The long loneliness of my heart
    Moments lost in the world
    Like shadows of a dream
    Not a breath in my own mind
    Thoughts belonging to the labyrinth of my soul
    Far in the mist
    Lying deep inside of myself
    My wishes do bother me
    Every time I glimpse the pain in my heart

    Dark nightmares drag me to the infinite abyss of despair
    So dismal and cold is my soul that it became dead
    I’ve grown so restless in sorrow
    While nothing in my life occurs but silent dreams
    The sky is only a cold essence
    And I am forever lonely
    I walked through the darkness with a blue wind hitting me
    Like tiny daggers slashing my skin
    When a hasty storm broke the clouds into dust
    Hushed by a mournful silence, I embraced my everlasting grief.

    Dark nightmares and illusions
    They came and shed darkness
    While each memory bent my emotions
    A swarthy shudder whispered unrevealed secrets
    A sea of fire emerged at the sound of my tears
    Madness and dismay became my consolation and comfort
    Fleeing from an insane lodging
    In a fleeting moment where fragments of my soul were scattered in the cold gusts of indifference
    Buying busy weeping my broken dreams
    When the shadows of the clouds cast a spell on me.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • A Comfortless Dreary Sky

    A Comfortless Dreary Sky

    A comfortless dreary sky
    A terrific and beautiful tempest
    Made of anguishes and broken dreams
    Once they belonged to the realm of quests and stupor
    But interrupted in the very moment of truth and beauty
    To become fragments of a whole nightmare
    In the abyss of ineptitude and betrayal
    I might question the night about my future
    It may come in fanfare sounds and sparkling obscurity
    Obscenity and banality don’t belong to my realm
    Maybe it is the case I change my windows in front of a sarcastic landscape
    Who could enquire what is real?
    So many fragile lies built under the shape of a high castle
    Not visible anymore
    Relying on the benefit of the doubt too many times
    I decided to move to another world
    Obsession for knowledge
    And the dominion of words and imaginary scenarios
    The obliteration of ignominious dreams in the darkness
    Dreaming is like breathing

    A comfortless dreary sky
    A misty veil of rain and storm
    A sublime ecstasy of a soothing slumber
    In an obscure realm of illusions and dismay
    Amidst a very midst of a dim sea
    The sun seems to glare through the gloomy clouds
    Cold darkness in existence with no thoughts or wisdom
    It abides only bliss beyond reality
    In a universe that is getting apart
    Whenever a dream reveals its mysteries from nothing
    The eternity of time is too far from the truth
    And brightness abides among the grey stars in the skies
    Greeting every emotion in vain
    My only place to be is with sorrows
    Which are no longer lies
    My heart became sweet as the snow
    My dark path conducts me to the loneliest room
    With gentle solitude and no comfort or rest
    Once the mystery of each star is disclosed
    A slight wind of fear will blow inside my soul.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Enchanted April Book

    The Enchanted April Book

    The Enchanted April book is a 1922 fictional novel by Elizabeth Von Arnim. It takes place in 1920 between England and Italy. The main characters are four different English women who organise a holiday in Italy because they want to have a break from their dull life. Elizabeth was a British novelist who was born in Sidney, Australia. This book is the tenth novel in my second list of books. 

    The Enchanted April takes place in Castello Brown

    The Enchanted April Book

    In the Enchanted April book, the main characters are four English ladies: Mrs Lotty Wilkins, Mrs Rose Arbuthnot, Lady Caroline “Scrap” Dester and Mrs Fisher. All four ladies lived a dull life in the “rainy” Hampstead, and they decided to flee from their families and friends for a period. In particular, Lotty and Rose didn’t enjoy their arid, monotone and cold marital relations. Mrs Wilkins had found an advertisement about a holiday in Castello Brown, an Italian 16th-century castle in Liguria. Lotty was fascinated by the advertising with the following captivating description: “to those who appreciate wisteria and sunshine in a small medieval Italian castle on the shores of the Mediterranean”. Shortly, Lotty Wilkins met Rose in the Woman’s Club in London. In the following days, Lotty and Rose arranged their journey. And they involved two other ladies in sharing the expenses because of their precarious financial situation. 

    The Enchanted April Book Landscape

    The Beginning Of The Italian Journey

    The owner of the mediaeval castle is an Englishman, Mr Briggs, who was living in London. Lady Caroline Dester and Mrs Fisher join the Italian trip. Indeed, both of them are determined in their desire to break for a month away from their families and friends. Caroline is a single beautiful and enchanting socialite, and Mrs Fisher was an elderly widow with memories from the Victorian era. The beginning of this trip to Italy was not as they expected because of the weather. It rained, but the rain was Italian, after all! Indeed the Italian straight rain was far better than the British one! San Salvatore was on the top of a hill. April was the best month to enjoy the Italian weather, and the ladies started their journey among delightful landscapes and nature. Indeed, in the book, there are many descriptions of this beautiful place. 

    The Castle’s Life

    San Salvatore beauty relied even on the small details such as small gardens on different levels. The ladies were attractive and pretty in their bright clothes. Each one of them was pretty different and in particular, Caroline was the most independent one. Scrap spent as much time as she could by herself. She used to seek solitude lying senseless in the sun because she intended to be somewhere away from her family and friends, forgetting everything.  Caroline was committed to meeting the other ladies only on the occasion of the meals. In the beginning, Rose and Lotty enjoy the absence of their husbands. However, with the time they sent invitations to their spouses. Scrap feels the future invasion of those men as a potential danger for her peaceful stay, and she cannot understand the feelings of affection and love. Indeed, during all the journey, she gets more acquainted with Lotty Wilkins whose kindness and goodness is contagious. 

    The Enchanted April book landscape

    Love And Enchantments

    The ladies are not indifferent to this magical place’s effect, and since the first day, their temper and disposition change. Lotty misses her husband, and she pushes Rose to invite her husband as well. The two men don’t miss this occasion, and they accept the invitations of their wives. The amiability and harmony permeate the group of visitors. Mrs Fisher changes her temper and inclination becoming amiable and sweet. Caroline is the last person to surrender to love being used to reject every admirer who fell in love with her. Lady Dester learns to open herself to the emotions and lose her fears of loving and being loved. She finally stops “getting rid of things”. The splendour and the exquisiteness of nature overwhelmed the “blank emptiness” of Caroline’s heart. 

    The Scent Of The Acacias

    The Enchanted April book has a happy ending with the scent of the acacias. The tones of this novel are sweet as the fragrance of the garden flowers which saturated the castle. It is full of beauty and descriptions of the beauty of nature. Flowers and gardens influence human feelings with their beauty and fragrances. In this novel, nature casts a spell on everybody. And everyone is powerless in front of such enchantment. “Indeed, the whole garden dressed gradually towards the end in white pinks and white banksia roses, and the syringe and the Jessamine, and at last the crowing fragrance of the acacias. When, on the first of May, everybody went away, even after they had got to the bottom of the hill and passed through the iron gates out into the village they still could smell the acacias”. This book is a virtual voyage to an enchanting Italy. I’ve read this digital version of the Enchanted April book.

    The Enchanted April Book Scenario

© Esther Racah 2026. All rights reserved.