Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: Dark Fantasy

  • My Ancient Books

    My Ancient Books

    My ancient books follow me wherever I go
    Like loyal companions in my silent and solitary quest
    They fill my imagination with wonder and delight, surrounding me with their dust of decay

    Surprised, but their magic capability to transform my life into a phantasmagorical realm
    Where everything is possible, and every wish of mine is granted
    I often gaze at them at night, and they leave in me a feeling of awe

    My ancient books beckoned me into the realm of fantasy
    Where I could embrace my frenzy and whims
    And nonsense could have been the guiding force of my wisdom

    Their pages concealed ancient arcana about sorcerers and witches, ghosts and shadows
    Welcoming me into a world where time didn’t exist
    And becoming gateways to lost worlds of imagination

    Under the pale moonlight piercing the veil of darkness in my chamber
    I sank into a deep trance as though under the influence of a magic spell
    And it seemed that each letter was bleeding like veins of ebony ink

    My ancient books became secret crypts
    Keeping their obsessive mysteries and enigmatic wisdom
    While I couldn’t flee from their alluring and captivating magnetism

    I was not a reader anymore
    I became a character in their stories and a tiny phantom trapped in their realm
    And I got lost in the maze of knowledge and madness

    My name was carved on each page
    And it felt as if the characters of my ancient books were calling out to me
    While I was more confused than ever

    Forgotten by all
    There was no memory of myself in the night sky
    I fell into the abyss of ancient legends

    The fissures within my senses became blurry lines
    I walked through infinite halls of cursed tales
    As if there would never be tomorrow

    Every word was echoing in my mind at the rhythm of my own heart
    While every page overflowed with gloomy remembrances
    Beguiling me still further into places where time is nullified and hope is void

    The ghostly company of nightmares and despair was all mine
    Every time my soul blended with those haunting rhymes
    And I became both a storyteller and a captive
    Forever entangled in the immortal embrace of my ancient books.
    Elisabetta

  • The Garden Of Despair

    The Garden Of Despair

    The garden of despair was the realm of my heart
    Where not a single day would have passed without a cry, a sob, and a sigh
    Flowers would bloom every time a year of despair would moisten their petals
    And a ghoul would appear in its ethereal appearance

    So, I relied on this wonderful and fantastic alcove
    To release all my phantoms of the past and all my fears of the future
    I was wandering among the tall flowers with their huge thorns
    Thorns that oftentimes would pierce my heart

    Hence, my heart bled and made crimson every flower of the garden of despair
    Whilst the absolute silence surrounded me
    As there was absolutely no way to hear the celestial voices of the stars
    In a moonless and raven sky made of obsidian gems

    Encircled by the shadows of the night
    I followed the cold wind of solitude
    To discover my true essence and hidden treasures
    Teardrops of sorrow stroke my face enlightening me with their glow

    I had no direction to follow or a place to dwell
    I felt confused and astonished at the same time
    Because I couldn’t believe I was living in a surreal world
    Where there was no reality but only absurdities

    An intangible refuge adrift in nowhere was my new home
    A sanctuary where emptiness was celebrated
    And castles were made of illusion and deception
    Where forsaken dreams lingered among the clouds

    Every thought of mine vanished and I couldn’t remember anything
    As I became invisible and ephemeral like a tiny snowflake
    And I didn’t exist anymore because my body faded as I’d never lived before
    Crossing veils of mist and glooms that dissolved at my touch

    I fell into the dungeon of the abyss of my mind
    The garden of despair created by my own imagination
    A realm of intangible melancholy and decadence
    A world doomed never to exist.
    Elisabetta

  • The Labyrinth Of Mirrors

    The Labyrinth Of Mirrors

    The labyrinth of mirrors waited for me to get lost
    Each mirror reflected a buried version of myself
    Each mirror reflected a buried memory of mine
    Although I was unconscious in my slumber
    I did know what was awaiting me

    So, I faced the consequences of watching my past
    In thousands and thousands of fragments of time
    Fragments that no longer belonged to me
    Nevertheless, they were there in front of me
    To show me that I could never flee from myself

    In this fictional world, time didn’t exist anymore
    And everything seemed frozen and immovable
    It appeared that each mirror whispered a silent agony
    No reflecting my image but only a memento of my life
    Remembrances clasping me with their powerful claws

    The labyrinth of mirrors transformed into a silent gelid garden
    Where no flower could ever have grown
    So extreme was the intemperate temper of the night’s darkness
    Whose blizzard struck me with its cynicism
    Depriving me of all my dreams

    Lingering in this dwelling of anguish and regret
    Astonished by the gleaming reflections of the sleek glass surfaces
    I gasped at the sight of gloomy shadows emerging from the mirrors
    Indeed, they were my memories transformed into ghostly clouds
    Starring at my soul while I was surrounded by ethereal hallucinations

    Every sob of mine carved a message onto my body
    So overwhelmed was I by countless emotions
    The teardrops descended on my face
    Weaving a sumptuous dress around me
    I was dressed in water and air

    The labyrinth of mirrors turned into a park of water and grass
    Where the flowers were made of crystal and tears
    Visions and fantasies wandered freely like butterflies
    Flying from one flower to another one
    Stroking my hair as softly as a whispered untruth

    The ghosts of my past vanished into the emptiness
    And I realized I would never wake from that illusion
    For I had become a part of it forever.
    Elisabetta

  • Soft Daggers Of Dismay

    Soft Daggers Of Dismay

    Soft daggers of dismay pierced my heart
    While I was helpless in my slumber
    Like a magic spell enticing me with its sweet melancholy
    I abided to embrace resignation as a matter of reality

    Burning flames destroyed all my words
    And the only thing that remained was silence
    And absolute silence in the darkness of the night
    While the cold wind of indifference pinned me like a butterfly in a cloud

    Many thoughts and memories made me realise that I was raving over nothing
    Because nothing really mattered but my distorted idea of reality
    Leading me astray in a garden of thorns and hollow trees
    Where I found my inner leisure and despondency

    The pluralism of my essence overwhelmed me
    It was like to be conscious of a fragmentation of the soul
    Concealing myself behind the fountain of unknown
    I embraced my fate as an undefined creature of the ethereal world of fantasies

    Soft daggers of dismay pierced my heart
    Making it bleed into a garden of crimson flowers
    Where the alluring scent bewildered my senses
    Leading the way at the edge of an abysm
    A chasm of devastation and death

    Crying and screaming
    I remained at the bottom of a gorge
    My teardrops formed an impetuous river that swept me away
    Until I found myself senseless and confused
    As I was reborn in a new life

    The soft daggers of my dismay turned into thorns surrounding my heart
    The sweetness of this pang made me feel a flower rooted in a forest of nightmares
    Where the faded sound of cries echoed in the nocturnal landscape
    Exhaustion overcame me

    Writing my feelings in ink forged from tears and blood
    I carved every single letter on a parchment of memories
    Remembrances emerged like ghosts lingering around me
    Striving to choke me with their pointed fingers
    While I fell into a profound slumber
    To never wake up and face the reality

    Hence I lay in a garden of crimson flowers
    Where nonsense was the only decree
    And phantasmagoria was the only truth
    While the whispers of the abyss lulled me into a forever oblivion.
    Elisabetta

  • Swallowed By The Emptiness

    Swallowed By The Emptiness

    Swallowed by the emptiness, I strive to survive
    And it seems that I’ve lost everything
    And I feel that I’ve got lost in the obscure abyss of my anguish
    And it’s only my fragility that guides me through the darkness

    The cruel fate threw me into a life of decay and despair
    An existence of invisibility and nonsense
    Where I struggle to be understood and loved
    And solitude rips my heart apart

    Wandering alone in the night
    I lose myself in an infinite myriad of thoughts
    And I try to scream, but there is no way to be heard
    While I lose my mind, falling into the abyss of madness

    Foolish as I am
    Every time, I believe in having found my way
    I only find walls made of gelid stones
    With no doors

    So I stopped to trust my dreams
    Since they are the most deceptive illusions
    Traps made of enchanting flowers and magic spells
    Traps that become my alcoves of salvation

    And I remain an unconscious prisoner of such captivating visions
    And I linger in silence without saying anything anymore
    I forget the sound of my voice to only remember the sound of my sobs
    When despair fractures me in millions of pieces

    The sweet melody of decadence soothes my soul
    I feel only love and anguish
    My heart bleeds teardrops of passion
    Lacerated as it is with a doomed destiny

    Swallowed by the emptiness
    I wander in the dark nights in the labyrinth of my nightmares
    To lie there hopeless and betrayed
    With a mind full of phoney delusions

    Trying to lie to myself
    I became convinced that there are clouds of happiness
    Where I’m valued and remembered
    A phantasmagoria of glowing glare and delight

    Hence, a fraudulent bliss enchained me eternally
    And an inextinguishable flame burns my bleeding heart
    Inflaming my soul with its ethereal fire
    A fire made of emptiness and indifference.
    Elisabetta

  • Sweet Decadence

    Sweet Decadence

    Sweet decadence of instants already vanished
    In the void of my loneliness, I found affliction
    And dust of decay fell over me like an incessant rain
    Whilst I wandered alone in the cold nighttime

    Suddenly, I saw my fears, and anguish gripped me
    Making me captive in its dark dungeon
    Where a sweet decadence waited for me to swallow my soul
    And shattering my heart in infinite fragments of love and pain

    Hence, I sighed, waiting for fate to destroy my dreams and expectations
    A moment of death and transformation
    Like a nocturnal moth morphing into an everlasting flame
    Surrounded by the merciless void of indifference and unbending decree

    The magic touch of the stars stroked my hair
    While I got lost in the labyrinth of my dreams
    Dreams that appeared as nightmares
    Undisclosed secrets of all the forbidden lives I lived

    Drowning in the deep and dark ocean
    Where I kept my fragile and stormy mysteries
    Arcane truths hid underneath my soul
    The sources of my fantasmagorical realm of fantasies

    Sweet decadence became my languid alcove
    My secret world to which I always belonged
    And I will always belong
    My treasure chest was full of dust of decay and anguish

    All the fruits of betrayal poisoned my essence
    Tainting my heart with their ink of blood and darkness
    Subtly whispering lovely words of love and exquisite sweetness
    Entangling me with its chains of silk and gold

    In the garden of my forbidden desires and passions
    Enticed by their spells and mesmerised by the lush of their scent
    I fell into a perpetual slumber, and the death of my wisdom and sanity occurred suddenly
    It was a consequence of the venomous thorns of nocturnal roses

    I closed my eyes to look inside my dreams of sweet decadence and decay
    I segregated myself from the world
    I created my own secret world made of magnificence and beauty
    A realm belonging only and only to me
    My kingdom and heavenly refuge of joy.
    Elisabetta

  • The Ravine of Fire

    The Ravine of Fire

    The ravine of fire was a delightful realm of vexation,
    Where flames writhed, ablaze in fervent contemplation.
    Ashes floated like black petals fallen by lost desires,
    Feeding the fire, stoking ancient pyres of lust.

    Ghouls danced in ephemeral flames, wreathed in smoky lace,
    Their countenances twisted a mournful, silent grace.
    Each blazing ember of passion pulsed, a heartbeat in the dark,
    Casting crimson secrets, leaving magical glimmers.

    Old iniquities were set alight by every blaze of obscenities,
    And remembrances were distorted in this feverish feast.
    Grief and sorrow strived to obliterate every dream within this ravine of fire,
    While a haunting dirge carried on the sulfurous breeze.

    Rivers of flame crawled deep through the earth’s cracked veins,
    Licking at scars with lust, basking in charred remnants.
    Beneath the molten tides lay arcane legends lastingly kept,
    Where invisible despair and forfeited fantasies slumbered.

    Bones of a remote past were forged anew,
    Burning bright but hidden from mortal view.
    In this seething realm, regret found its roots,
    In the eternal embrace of a fiery death.

    The sky above, a shroud of sullen grey,
    Held back the dawn, denying night’s decay.
    Time was a prisoner to the ravine’s cruel jest,
    An endless descent into a smouldering rest.

    In the abyss of fire, only darkness and obsession,
    Hope was obliterated, and shadows dictated their decrees.
    A kingdom where the gloomy sky was untouched by morning skies,
    And the stars were extinguished forever.

    The ravine of fire was an infinite maw,
    Consuming fragments of what once was the ordinary certitude.
    Torments blossomed like exquisite blossoms through the mist of smoke,
    As silence tangled with every crevice and choke.

    Gleaming leaves were hovering in agony, both timeless and keen,
    Thorns covered every surface like a cruel and enchanting mesh.
    A sombre choir rose from the tumultuous chasm below,
    Like a chant of despair where no light dared to proceed.

    Crimson rivers wept down as if to mourn,
    For aborted dreams and decayed illusions,
    Condemned to be trapped in this doomed realm,
    Where unaware dreamers were lured by the ravine’s relentless lustre.

    This utopian land was forsaken by all but dread,
    Where phantoms of yesteryear were eternally bound,
    Bound to flames that did not warm but only kill,
    A ravine of fire where everything was swallowed into the shadows and eternal darkness.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • A Phantasmagoria of Mystery

    A Phantasmagoria of Mystery

    A phantasmagoria of mystery pervaded the realm of dreams,
    Where delights cast their magic spells,
    Glowing like stars in the infinite darkness,
    The darkness of rationality and consciousness,
    Whose heavy shadows draped over the imagination that dared wander.

    Like warm raindrops falling upon open flower blooms,
    Passions moistened every blossom of roses with their dew of lust,
    Each petal glistening, saturated with feverish desire,
    And in the silent sonata, the blossoms swayed,
    Unfurling to a breeze that whispered forbidden rhymes.

    Oblivion and derealisation welcomed every utopia in this exquisite alcove,
    An alcove of lush gardens veiled in mist,
    Where roses revealed secrets to the midnight sky,
    And the aura, decadent with intoxicating scents,
    Lured dreamers further into hallucinations that could not be resisted.

    In this realm of opulence, reality blurred, dissolving at the edge of darkness,
    Where dawn dared not disturb the exquisite slumber,
    And beneath the star-laden canopy, sweet illusions swirled wildly,
    Weaving dreams with threads of silk and shadows,
    A dance of light and dark, of ecstasy and fervour, entangled forever.

    In the gardens of legends, where phantoms ruled,
    Each shadow became a wraith of lost desires, drifting, unchained,
    Every sigh was heavy with the scent of roses,
    And every heartbeat transformed into an echo, fading into the invisible,
    An imaginary domain where time dissolved, leaving only the eternal dusk.

    A phantasmagoria of mystery happened to be in this enchanted universe,
    Where illusions and falsehoods became reality.
    A bizarre and fantastic scenario where remembrances did not exist anymore,
    And dreams were the irrefutable truth.

    Within this unearthly garden of forbidden reveries,
    Ethereal spectres wove silent trails through the air, invisible.
    Guiding the dreamers and visionaries toward metaphysical revelations,
    Past the boundaries of the known and intelligible.

    The roses, drenched in twilight’s honeyed essence,
    Released their secrets in whispers soft and low,
    As if mourning for a life they’d never lived,
    And petals drifted down like fallen hopes,
    Into pools of ink, where starlight’s glow had ceased.

    Beneath a moon veiled in shadows’ dark embrace,
    Figures waltzed in silence, spectres of delight,
    Invisible, though stirring in every pulse, every heartbeat,
    Moving in time to a song unheard, unfathomable,
    A hymn to worlds that only slumber can comprehend.

    In this phantasmagoric realm, within the depths of the midnight veil,
    Where dawn was but a distant tale, lost,
    The dreamers sank deeper, surrendering entirely,
    To realms beyond the reach of morning’s light,
    Forever wandering in the labyrinth of dusk.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Flowers of Lust

    Flowers of Lust

    Flowers of lust bloomed with passion and love,
    In a lush garden teeming with beauty and sublimity.
    Not even the rain dared touch this magical, magnificent realm,
    Where all dreams always come true.

    Anguish began to poison that ethereal world,
    Each raindrop became a drop of venom and grief,
    Killing all the flowers of lust and leaving the garden a deserted place,
    Where shadows and darkness started to rule.

    Hope faded like the sun’s dying glow,
    As gloominess swallowed the once-enchanted realm.
    The wind carried tales of forgotten euphoria,
    Now replaced by the wails of misery’s presence.

    A veil of sorrow draped over every path,
    Once adorned with roses, now thorns remained.
    The sky, once azure, turned to ominous dark grey,
    And silence grew louder than the softest pain.

    The lovers who feasted in the garden’s embrace,
    Became mere phantoms, vestiges of the remote past.
    Their merriment twisted into haunting laments,
    As the night’s cold grasp on their souls was cast.

    This forsaken place transformed into a castle of rumbles,
    Each remembrance was a reminder of love’s decay.
    No gentle breeze, no floral perfume in the air,
    Only the scent of death would not sway.

    The garden became a grave for passion’s bloom,
    Lay barren, broken, a cradle for despair.
    No longer a haven for hearts to unite,
    But a tomb where love withered, unaware.

    Wilted petals and shattered dreams are all that remain,
    Fragments of a life now lost in vain.
    Each star above seemed to mock the plight,
    Of a paradise torn apart at the seams.

    Amidst the ruins and obliteration,
    The eternal darkness still cast its poisonous spell,
    And gloaming clouds devoured every hopeful bloom.
    No life could flourish in this place of despair,
    A garden trapped in its endless, tragic plight.

    The flowers of lust forever lost their allure,
    As night swallowed day and banished the light.
    In this realm of sorrow, nothing survived,
    Not love, nor joy, nor the faintest gleam,
    But only the fragments of shattered dreams.
    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