Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: cursed realm

  • Magic Spells

    Magic Spells

    Magic spells manifested amid the night of ghosts and witches,
    Whose enchantments lured creatures, hearts and souls,
    In a realm of nowhere, where time stopped long ago.

    Silence and darkness ruled this enchanted world,
    Where the moon and the stars were witnesses to the magnificence of the night,
    In this devil-may-care domain, glooms and ghouls danced with glee.

    Arcane secrets were kept in cold and lifeless trees,
    Whose boughs gnarled and twisted, bearing the consequences of curses and hexes,
    Together with tales of ruin, despair, and broken verses.

    An elixir of ancient magic spells was smeared through the shrouded woods,
    Ethereal spirits roamed, guided by illusions, while searching for a dwelling,
    Wandering without any guidance, lost in the labyrinth of eternity.

    This abyssal lair was not a haven at all,
    Since the only loud noises were sobs of sorrow and the sharp tang of despair,
    While the ground beneath trembled with restless sighs.

    The stars were mourning, hidden in the skies,
    A cauldron bubbled with its fumes reaching high,
    In an eternal void, devouring the light.

    In this realm, sorceresses conjured dreams twisted and dire,
    Stirring the pot with wands of blood and fire,
    While embracing a doomed fate made of dread and shadows.

    In every corner, the void overcame life and hope,
    Keeping the secrets that time could not preserve,
    With every chant, a spell was cast, obliterating the past, the present, and the future.

    The night echoed as a requirement of endless pain,
    While shapes of dread evoked tales of the forgotten dead,
    Mocking the living with their eerie whizz.

    In this chimerical realm of endless plight,
    Desire and love were fleeting and banished lights,
    Since arcane arts tore apart both souls and hearts.

    When the night became a cursed precipice,
    Only an absolute silence rose bleak,
    Lingering like a haunting magic spell and leading to a shadowed hell,
    In this realm of nowhere, all became decay and death under the hex of magic spells.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Dreams and Spells

    Dreams and Spells

    Dreams and spells coveted in the abyss of shadows where phantoms crept,
    Wandering through a realm half-wept.
    The moon hung low; its face was pale,
    And whispered of a ghostly tale.

    The sky became gloomy, the stars were dim,
    As winds sang out a mournful hymn.
    Every path was lost in endless nights,
    Beneath a sky that held no light.

    Through twisted woods, the wanderers found a gate,
    Its iron bars were wrought with fate.
    A voice called out, both near and far,
    Like echoes from a fallen star.

    “Step forth,” it said, “into the dream,
    Where silence reigns and shadows gleam.”
    Those who crossed the threshold felt the spell,
    A touch of darkness known too well.

    The world within was strange and wild,
    Where reason’s grip was swiftly beguiled.
    The ground was ash, the trees were bone,
    Their branches cracked in a sorrowful tone.

    A figure stood with eyes like fire,
    A sorceress of dark desire.
    She raised her hand, the spell was cast,
    And time itself could not hold fast.

    The dreamers drifted then, their senses blurred,
    In realms where whispered words were heard.
    Each secret spoke of death’s embrace,
    Of haunted dreams and hollow grace.

    The stars fell down like frozen tears,
    Unveiling long-forgotten fears.
    Intense was the feeling of the pull of ancient woe,
    Beneath the weight of night’s cold glow.

    The sorceress turned, her gaze met the others,
    A silent bond both fierce and delicate like smothers.
    She beckoned close, her fingers curled,
    And swirled those unfortunates through her shadowed world.

    A beginning of a frantic dance upon a sea of mist,
    Where every wing gust felt like a tryst,
    With darkness draped in velvet black,
    And the time that twisted, bent, and cracked.

    The spell then broke; the dream grew thin,
    Those delusionals found themselves where they’d once been.
    The gate was gone, the night was still,
    But in every heart, there lingered a chill.

    For though every heart left that cursed realm,
    Its shadows clung; they overwhelmed.
    And in every soul, dreams and spells were bound,
    Whispered secrets lost, never to be found.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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