Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: contemporary poetry

  • Wonderful Darkness

    Wonderful Darkness

    Wonderful darkness in the midst of my dreams shrouded me in its velvety dark veil, inlaid with stars and crescent moons. I was frightened to lose myself in the infinite void in front of me. Chaos enthralled me, as I was cast out of every solace, and I made acquaintance with demons and nightmares.

    I was everything, and I was nothing. I was infinite, and I was confined. No shapes or colours could define me, as I had lost my primordial impression. A festive creature had announced to me a decadent fate to me, leaving me withered flowers and branches covered with thorns. Although hesitation grasped me, I was determined to embrace the defiant distress that confined me in a dungeon of tears and vexations.

    Sweet dreams became dreadful nightmares whenever I was beset by tainted slumber. Candles were burning in the night haze, while I listened to the roars of fierce thunder. My tense heart fainted as it bestowed every drop of its essence to impatient and greedy spirits. In confusion and silence, I remained still like a frozen sculpture.

    I had severed all empathy for my past self. Decline was my inevitable destiny, and I sank deeper and deeper into the abyss of despair. Skeletons of memories claimed me from their otherworldly home. Ethereal flames adorned me like a fiery crown. In my eternal dream, I was flying free like a butterfly on a spring morning.

    Nonetheless, what was expected was a storm of wrath and demise. Wonderful darkness had entangled me in a quagmire filled with ghosts and howls. My heart was viciously tormented, fractured and torn to pieces. I couldn’t find a shadow willing to grant me even a fragment of marvel.

    The firmament hid the stars’ bright glow beneath dark and threatening clouds, and I acquiesced to my fate. Evanescent shadows wrapped me with their mysterious soliloquies. I traversed my last portal without any hope of return. My name was obliterated, and my heart was swallowed by wonderful darkness. Through loss, vexation, and oblivion, I was consecrated to the eternal and infinite night.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • The Kingdom Of Paradoxes And Absurdities

    The Kingdom Of Paradoxes And Absurdities

    The kingdom of paradoxes and absurdities was the place where bullying and arrogance reigned supreme, sovereign over vulgarity and stupidity. They wallpapered the walls of every place that held court in such a realm.

    Anything that could be imagined was both unreal and real at the same time. It could exist or not exist. Absurdity, however, was the master of the place. Thus, everything my logic deemed possible was tangible and predictable. In truth, it could neither take place nor be actualised in such sovereignty.

    I cannot say that I was dreaming, nor can I say that I was awake. In a state of shock and surrender of my ego, I could no longer even discern whether I was daydreaming or hallucinating. All I could say was what my sensations and perceptions made me feel in every part of my soul and heart, in every part of my body.

    Although I had firmly decided not to bend to the will of others, not to bow down or worship the conventions imposed on me persistently, I fell into a deadly trap—a kind of imprisonment, a state of captivity from which I could not free myself. Invisible chains that I felt and perceived in my body and heart held dominion over my life and my way of thinking.

    My jewellery box had been plundered. All my secrets had been revealed by indiscreet tongues. And my protection had vanished. It was as if I had become a defenceless flower in the midst of a threatening desert.

    I had to say goodbye to my version of myself, which was no longer alive. I had to say goodbye to all those visions that had deceived me falsely, when my naivety clouded my sight.

    In the kingdom of paradoxes and absurdities, I had to succumb and suffer. I had nowhere else to go. And the more I tried to escape, the more it seemed that this strange land expanded beneath my feet, preventing me from crossing its high and menacing walls. And what could the sky do but watch me, almost mocking me in an indifferent and cynical manner.
    Elisabetta

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