Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: chimaera

  • The Path Of Perdition And Chimaeras

    The Path Of Perdition And Chimaeras

    The path of perdition and chimaeras had become the centre of my past existence
    Having lost myself a million times and having found a new version of myself each time
    I was a creature of transformation and a cyclic universe
    So cast astray I was that I couldn’t recognise myself oftentimes
    It’s too difficult to define and confine ourselves in a label and a box
    Definitely, I never succeed in such a task differently from other mortals

    I was made of fractures and wholeness
    I was made of sadness and merriment
    I was made of splendour and decay
    I was made of beauty and darkness
    I was made of shells and the ocean
    I was made of the infinite and stars

    Nevertheless, I came to a point of no return
    Where I couldn’t go back or appear under the previous shape
    I had become a new creature belonging to the realm of transformation and death
    My pitiful soul was just a dead star that had fallen from the night sky

    I couldn’t recognise myself even if I did desire it so much
    All the mirrors in front of me seemed black as soon as I stared at their sleek surfaces
    Oh, the pathetic anguish I was feeling in my heart!
    Nothing could have alleviated it!
    A stone flower was inside myself
    While I’ve got lost in the labyrinth of thoughts and fears

    And now I was resting on my dried and pale tears made of dust
    Everything appeared so lousy and loud to my delicate eyes
    The world that the mortals had built was too much for me
    And I felt an evanescent feeling of despair and pain

    The path of perdition and chimaeras could have been the product of my imagination
    Or maybe it was just one of my several hallucinations that haunted my dreams
    I will never know it!
    Lisa

  • Dreams Of Oblivion

    Dreams Of Oblivion

    Dreams of oblivion darkened my sleep.
    They were like palliatives for my searing pain,
    numbing my heart and soothing—
    If only for a moment—
    My spasms of fear.

    My disappointments had become like cobwebs woven inside my heart,
    darkening every joy, even the smallest.
    Ultimately, I had not chosen my fate,
    and I groped in the dark uncertainty,
    trying to understand where I was and who I was.

    The disdain and aloofness that oozed from the faces of mortals who had crossed my miserable existence
    had transformed me into a silent, sombre shadow
    whose image did not appear in any mirror.

    In my dreams of oblivion and madness, mediocre monsters that sought to tear me apart
    appeared menacingly in the realm I tried to protect and keep as mine.
    Their intrusion was truly an act of violence.
    Their intent to destroy me was the source of my fears.

    Ancient dusty clocks tolled the time, which always seemed the same.
    The dust of decay and sorrow fell upon me like a heavy rain,
    covering me completely and turning me into an invisible shell.

    Watchful and evanescent veils covered me, so as not to show me the harsh reality whose injustice and squalor could have tainted the integrity of my heart. And my attempt to awaken from that stupor mixed with despair was in vain.

    I was about to become oblivion.
    I was about to become my dreams.
    I was about to become an ephemeral, evanescent creature,
    almost invisible and nonexistent,
    that no mortal of the common reality
    could have seen with their limited gaze
    shrouded in prejudice.
    I was about to become an ephemeral, evanescent creature,
    almost invisible and nonexistent,
    that no mortal of the common reality
    could have seen with their limited gaze
    shrouded in prejudice.

    Perhaps I myself was an illusion,
    perhaps I had become a utopia or a chimaera.
    The devastating pain had transformed me
    and erased every trace of my mortality.
    Lisa

  • Shrouds of Anguish

    Shrouds of Anguish

    Shrouds of anguish were overlooking the garden of delights,
    Casting dreadful shadows over the beautiful flower beds,
    Allowing just a tiny glimpse of light to shine through the eternal night,
    In the absolute silence of the darkness, where no one would have dared explore the most remote corners of secrecy.

    Far away from the remembrances of a distant realm,
    Mysterious creatures wandered still,
    Seeking remnants of magnificence lost in the wake of obliteration,
    In the tragic hope of being able to save what was left to cherish.

    Every exquisite dream faded like a fantastic chimaera,
    Lost in the darkness of indifference and stillness,
    Among shadows of laments and annihilation,
    In the vast ocean of nothingness.

    The suspense of fate was like a shining sword ready to obliterate capricious merriments,
    In a kingdom of lugubrious and mournful obsessions,
    Where light had to surrender to the gloom of despair,
    Among shrouds of anguish and disavowal.

    Tales of forgotten aeons lingered in the hollow chambers of the past,
    Threading through the labyrinth of forsaken joys,
    Like faint echoes of a requiem unsung,
    Haunting the ruins of a splendour once divine.

    The desolate soil resounded with the weight of memories too sombre to accept,
    Their jagged shards pierced through darkness’s veil,
    Drawing forth the anguish of eras long buried,
    A threnody that the earth could not quell.

    In the heart of the garden, a single bloom endured,
    Its petals were pale as the moon’s cold gaze,
    Quivering in defiance against the ravenous void,
    Yet bound to the world of sorrow and despair.

    Amidst the transient reign of decay,
    Beauty was but a shadow that wove a firmament of grief,
    Concealing the faint glimmers of the stars that might have existed in an unfathomable abyss,
    Where silence bled through the fractured relics of vanished longings.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Overrated Fears

    Overrated Fears

    Overrated Fears

    Overrated fears of future declines
    As the darkness gives way to the light
    In a play of highlights and shadows
    In the ambivalence of the unconsciousness
    Whilst the desires dominates the senses
    And my restlessness feeds my fantasies
    I cease to live a present instant
    Because I nullified the time
    Free and insensate, I can release my impulses
    Instinctively I navigate through the deformities of my thoughts
    I feel so close to my naive inspiration
    And I don’t care to please other’s impression
    The nights belong to my poetry
    The nights belong to my dreams
    When my uncontrolled feelings fiercely flow
    Like a wild rushing waterfall
    Sweeping away all my fears
    And chasing all my dreams
    As soon as they become absurd, chimaeras
    Whilst they materialise in the sublimity of chaos.
    Esther Racah

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