Spells and enchantments in the middle of the night awakened me in an ancient forest where time seemed to have frozen and marvels bloomed at each moment. In the realm of fantastic fairy tales, magic was an ordinary manifestation of a reality that was but a magnificent illusion. Quietly the nocturnal wind soothed me to sleep while I could sense the exquisite perfume of mesmerising flowers. No fears or anguishes could ever touch my mind in the world of spells and enchantments. Sparkling starlight could never reach that enchanted forest where only candlelight was allowed to glow besides the shimmering cauldron always brewing. Hypnotising whispers and ravens’ melodies seemed to reveal themselves as arcane truths and occult nursery rhymes. A witch seemed to materialise like a sudden impetuous storm at midnight; she began to utter secret spells and enchantments collected in her many grimoires. I perceived the chimerical nature of that moment, as if I had become an ethereal and metaphysical creature myself as well. Once and for all I swallowed the magic potion from the witch’s cauldron and I forgot my past in a permanent act of obliterating my ominous memories. With the utmost enthusiasm, I embraced my transformation into a creature made of darkness and witchcraft. My countenance had changed, and I looked exactly like the witch; I might have realised I had metamorphosed into a witch myself, forsaking my human nature. No obsolete dismay could have been a minacious threat to me now that the reign of spells and enchantments had claimed me as its own. No sorrows or fears could have let me fall into the abyss of despair because no grief could any longer have overwhelmed my heart. Only wonders and marvels looked after me for I was an immortal sorceress destined for the most exquisite dreams and delights. Everything was perfect bliss, and the night of spells and enchantments had become everlasting.
Elisabetta Esther
Tag: Dark Poetry
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Spells And Enchantments
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Nightmares And Sorrow
Nightmares and sorrow blended in a cloud of illusory bliss in a beautiful and enchanting night of confusion and euphoria. I felt a sense of transience and fragility in my ephemeral existence. Torpor and a desire for amnesia dissolved when madness and absolute sublimity prevailed in their entirety. Lost in the darkness of the night, I began to feel overwhelmed by the immense ocean of life while I was but a frail snowflake, which could have been swallowed by the fantastic void. I had never been able to understand how my heart could be bewildered by a fierce dismay while the nocturnal cold breeze left me feeling drained and listless. Bitter and tragic memories manifested themselves with their unwelcome presence. At least silence could soothe me while the night did increase my anguish, which plunged me into a state of tragic wretchedness, as if my inescapable destiny had decided that dreams could no longer be a privilege of mine. Nightmares and sorrow never left my side and they softly whispered truths to me that I would have liked to bury in the abyss of oblivion. No matter how much I sought to escape that storm of restlessness and melancholy, I always found myself back at the starting point, facing my bitter and cruel anguish. Not even the beauty with which I had surrounded myself had sufficed to save me from that abyss of perdition. And so it was that my dreams were reduced to a heap of decaying rubble that not even the night wind would carry away. Time was racing by like a swollen river, while I stood motionless in a state of torment and contrition, unable to find a way out of that labyrinth of futile anxieties. Lost in the vortex of nightmares and sorrow I let events perpetrate their wickedness. I could never ever forget the day all the dreams of mine fell into abysmal obliteration. There was no longer a sunrise in the eternal realm of darkness and decay.
Elisabetta Esther -
A Dismal Obscurity
A dismal obscurity silently descended over the nighttime in the garden of secret and forbidden desires. Once again, the storm had fulfilled its promise to erase ancient memories and delusional hopes from the realm of fantasies and chimaeras. The nights followed each other like a sequence of fables without any beginning or end. All the flowers withdrew from the tempest’s thunder, leaving soaked soil filled with decay and fragments of burning flames. The bitterness of the magic potions that I had to swallow in my frantic existence turned my heart into a heavy stone to carry through nights of solitude and restlessness. Flares of anguish burst in the nighttime while the stars watched me closely like a bizarre creature, who was unworthy of inhabiting that enchanted place filled with wild eccentricities. The freezing wind was so fiercely cold and violent that I could not remain standing for even a moment, reminding me of my fragility and transience. The more unbearable truths demanded to be revealed the more I shrank from discovering them in the great mirror of dilemmas. No matter how much I wanted to cast off all those painful and demoralising memories, they appeared as menacing shadows wherever I went. A dismal obscurity had cast a spell all over the night and no portal could have conducted me to other surroundings since my fate had decreed that I could never depart from the realm of ill-omened nightmares and indulgent sufferings. The art of suffering had become my delight during those harrowing nights of burning tears. The stupor had not even allowed me a moment to relinquish my role as a dreamer of lost, fragmented dreams. The eternal darkness could have been magnificent each instant that a dismal obscurity had claimed my heart solely for the mere purpose of making me feel in each part of my body the misery of the loss of all my dreams while the stars and the moon mocked me with their looks of contempt.
Elisabetta Esther -
In The Labyrinth Of Sighs
In the labyrinth of sighs, a place suspended in time and unreachable by human beings, mysterious shadows and riddles lay beneath the crystal starlight that shone brightly over the kingdom of heavenly nightmares. Slowly I tried to find an escape but the more I proceeded the more I found myself at the same point at the very beginning. In vain I studied the opportunities to free myself from that labyrinth, nevertheless, it seemed that there was no chance for me to flee. At each moment a sigh revealed to me a part of the secrets that had been concealed by the clouds of dusk, when the moon could have touched the sleek dark blue surface of the ocean. Ominous shadows manifested their presence around me surrounding me with startling emotions making me hesitate to continue my frenetic quest for freedom. Was all that I needed a quest for the very liberty from an extremely extravagant place claiming my heart in a vehement storm of dismay and longing? As long as I was forced to stay in the labyrinth of sighs I could find myself absorbed in my thoughts between sweet and bitter pleasures while the moon on the horizon re-emerged from the brilliant ocean as if it had been born from the deepest depths. I felt the starlight caressing me softly descending all over me like a rain of delicate petals whose exquisite scent was bewitching but at the same time intimidating me. And however cynical and unscrupulous my cruel fate had been, I could not escape that sense of helplessness and exquisite mourning that had taken root in my heart; while ice-cold tears crept down my face, almost as if to remind me how my misery had become as infinite as the number of stars scattered across the firmament of the dark night. The wind softly whispered painful memories to me just as I had resigned myself to the idea of permanently leaving that place—so deeply hated yet equally yearned for—the labyrinth of sighs and forsaken desires.
Elisabetta Esther -
The Wandering Of The Waves
The wandering of the waves and the sound of sighs echoing softly through the forest of lost dreams, reminded me of the fleeting nature of my state—lost in labyrinths of desire and anguish. I could not tell whether I was dreaming or awake, given that reality for me had come to consist of fantastic visions and peculiar dreams. And it was as if the past had poured into the present—which, however, was aimed at the future—and this chaos of future expectations and vague memories of the past never abated as the nights went by. I was confused and lost, yet I did not lose heart at all; on the contrary, I chose to seek out arcane symbols and enchanted grimoires to discover something about myself, given that I could not remember who or what I was. Scarlet flowers caught my eye while I was utterly exhausted from my search in the void, and their petals brought me comfort during the long winter nights when the sense of grief never left my side. Long and sombre were the moments when bitter memories carved symbols of pain and anguish into my heart, and I stood there frozen, as if the night’s chill had stripped away my ability to react and move forward on my path of deranged restlessness. And dreams turned into nightmares that tore away every desire for delights and bliss. The ocean in the distance seemed like a safe haven for my soul, yet its vast immensity in the darkness of night unsettled me, seeming to transform into an abyss of obliteration. And so it was that I lost my battle against a part of myself that wanted to forget all the bitterness of the memories vehemently trying to suck me into their vortex of deep sadness. The bells of the ancient abandoned cemetery rang a funeral fanfare for all those dreams of mine that had been carried away by the sudden storm that had taken possession of my kingdom of forbidden and impervious dreams. Even the clouds had grown sorrowful and voiced their dissent with an incessant rain that washed away every fragment of hope I had kept in a crystal box. I felt dazed and intoxicated by the chaotic confusion of that pandemonium. In the end, I had lost everything I had guarded with such devotion, and even my name had been erased from the entire realm—as if I had never existed. The wandering of the waves no longer soothed me since the night of the loss of my annihilated dreams, which turned to dust and ashes. Dismay found its perpetual abode in my heart and never left, and I embraced a dismal and bleak fate in an absolute silence.
Elisabetta Esther -
Nightmares And Dreams
Nightmares and dreams invited me into their fairytale world on a dark night where the wails of the wind and the rustling of the leaves swept away by the impetuous wind kept me awake in the darkness of the night. However much I wanted to flee the dark omens of a destiny that had condemned me to an existence of darkness and nightmares, the truth revealed itself to me in the form of ancient manuscripts where I found symbols unknown to me engraved, but which fascinated me and whose meaning I tried so hard to discover. Nightmares and dreams became my faithful companions, spectres and ghosts of the past, anxieties of the future, heaviness of the present. All seemed to form a court of my faithful followers, of whom I was no longer afraid but a part of. Just as dried flowers crumbled upon the ground, mingling with the dry leaves. As I proceeded, I tried to catch sight of a light that could guide me on my uncertain and unstable path, where anguish served as my guide. It seemed that the night had become infinite and that the day had no longer found its role in that realm of magic and gloominess. Nightmares and dreams seemed to follow me wherever I went, and it did not seem at all a tangible reality in which I was living all these contrasting emotions in a swirling chaos that sucked me into the abyss of obliteration. However much I wanted to extricate myself from that labyrinth that held me prisoner and did not let me leave free, alas, what I could only do was retreat into my imaginary refuge where I had built myself a dwelling inhabited by nightmares and dreams, by illusions and perdition, by strangeness and spectres that instilled in me a strange sense of having lost everything that I had possessed. And so it was that I became eternal in my misery, from which I could not flee, like ivy tendrils entwined around me, which did not let me escape from that realm of hallucinations and trepidations, where my heart had been imprisoned in a crystal casket. All my agitation had been in vain. Fate, so dark and cruel, had decreed, by a decree unknown to me, my eternity made of nightmares and dreams.
Elisabetta Esther -
Undisclosed Secrets
Undisclosed secrets were kept inside antique grimoires like precious jewels well preserved in inaccessible treasure chests. While I was insensitive to the gripping cold wind of the night surrounding me, I fell into a state of torpor maintaining an absolute stillness. Although I had no particular attitude of letting events overwhelm me, I could not resist the escalation of events my fate decided to divulge to me. Memories drifted slowly through my mind, weighing down my heart like burdens too heavy to bear. That excruciating pain that tormented the deepest recesses of my heart had never left me alone, not even during the deepest sleep. And it was precisely in the deepest darkness that I rediscovered my secret refuge of peace and solitude. No mortal who happened upon those enchanting books would have been able to find—let alone decipher—the undisclosed secrets I myself had inscribed in my magical grimoires. Night became eternal, and I had become a creature of darkness, shunning the prying eyes of humankind, with whom I no longer had any connection. Silently, I listened to the melody of the stars gleaming in the gloomy sky like everlasting flames. The sound of faraway bells evoked spirits that seemed like the shadows of my fears, which had not yet dissolved into nothingness. The anguish I felt plunged me into an ocean of unease and a peculiar kind of mourning that deprived me of all my desires. Those undisclosed secrets I tried to preserve were no longer where I had placed them in the form of arcane symbols; in fact, my grimoires had become blank-page books immersed in the emptiness of oblivion. My memories faded away afterwards as if I were a creature with no past, living in a wintry realm where time had been obliterated. Regrets and disappointments turned my heart to stone, and nothing could touch my sensitive inner self anymore—not even the bitter, permanent loss of my most cherished undisclosed secrets.
Elisabetta Esther -
Fragments Of Vanished Dreams
Fragments of vanished dreams were hidden in my secret garden, where I passed my nights crying bitter tears of grief and frenzy. Without a doubt, I was not surprised when the decrepit windows shattered as the impetuous wind made them sway in a rhythm that reminded me of a funereal elegy. The ancient clocks of my antique manor ticked each minute as if I were on the verge of waiting for some spectral visit to announce me dreadful revelations. And so the nights passed although I didn’t notice how fast time was proceeding since the day I lost all my cherished treasures, of which all that remained now were fragments of vanished dreams. Not enough tears could express the devastation devouring my heart viciously with a destructive passion. Affliction tried to softly soothe me as if the only way to embrace sorrow was to become despair myself with all the dismay I could possess. I wandered aimlessly near the small lake, which mirrored my mean-spirited mansion beneath the veiled countenance of the moon while hiding behind a shroud of dismal clouds. I desired so badly to smell the black flowers of vengeance, which adorned my garden once upon a time. Tired and torn my heart was aching with the utmost distress in the middle of a gathering of ghouls, which chaperoned me slowly like shadows from the Otherworld. No longer was I waiting for fate to alter the course of tumultuous events that ricocheted through my existence. My imagination was leading my yearnings astray into the abyss of oblivion, so discouraged by a chaotic mess of unfair fears. Alas, without any hesitation, I dared to attempt to free myself from that grip of oppression, but every endeavour of mine was in vain. Nothing had remained in the sacred place of my secret garden but fragments of vanished dreams, of which only memories faded by the mists of time remained to me.
Elisabetta Esther -
A Dreamy Nighttime
A dreamy nighttime resurfaced in my mind as if I were living in that very moment that didn’t last as long as I wished it would. As usual, my flowing dark gown was agitated by the freezing wind while a large white wolf sat next to a black raven perched on the stone pillar with me. From my high stone balcony, I could gaze at a dragon flying in the distant sky, with an embellished archway overlooking a marvellous landscape of a misty valley, dramatic waterfalls, and a sprawling castle complex connected by stone bridges. That was definitely a dreamy nighttime to remember by the light of a warm candlelight, a glowing lantern, and the unperturbed silver light of the moon. My lovely companions could sense all the bitter grief and electrifying fears hidden in my heart no matter how much I claimed that nothing could disturb me. I often asked them about the meaning of existence and the reason why dreams were dissolved by the cynicism and indifference of humankind. Lost in the labyrinth of my thoughts, I let myself be captivated by the enchantment of that realm of beauty and magic, in the hope that I would distract my heart from the anguish that held it entangled in its thorny tendrils. In truth, I was fleeing from myself and from the darkness of the abyss of nightmares that haunted my fitful slumber. Nonetheless, a dreamy nighttime had the power to transform me into a creature of the silent night, inducing me to live a life of starlight and mysticism. In loneliness, I was no longer, absolutely I felt the protection of the fantastic inhabitants of that kingdom of dreamy nighttime. So bright were the luminaries that I felt finally welcomed and included for the very first time in my peculiar reality filled with oddities and delusions. At last, I was allowed to be made of dreams and nightmares, far away from the conventional impediments of humanity. Far away I fled astray, into the endless darkness, where splendid dreams and lugubrious nightmares merged beneath the silver gaze of the moon.
Elisabetta Esther -
The Spell In The Mirror
The spell in the mirror made me step further back into the dark corners of my dilapidated dwelling, where echoes of my heart’s emptiness reverberated. No matter how much I tried to flee my bitter memories, I could find no refuge in that dwelling that should have protected me; instead, I fled into the unknown of the ancient oak forest—a dark place, yet more reassuring than other places that were too bitter for my heart. The night never left my side as I kept wandering aimlessly without a particular intention or destination. I felt the gelid blizzard surrounding me without hesitation, forcing me to find my haven inside a mysterious cave, where a lantern illuminated my surroundings. Extravagant visions kept me from falling into a deep sleep, like bewitching chimaeras. I could not avoid passing through a magical portal unknown to me and crossing the threshold into a wondrous world that filled me with awe and stupor. It was as if a burning desire overwhelmed my senses and heart, and all my wishes had transformed into magnificent flowers, whose exquisite perfume extended throughout that enchanted realm. The sun appeared in the middle of the night as to greet the stars hiding behind gloomy clouds, and the twilight was altered by the constant sunshine, making the realm glimmer like a treasure chest filled with splendid gems. The spell in the mirror had invited me to a world, which belonged only to me and was invisible to humankind. I was surprised by the peculiar beauty of that realm, hidden behind that magic mirror adorned with enchantments. I suddenly perceived that the surroundings were made of luxury furniture, and I gave a curious glance at a dark ornate desk holding a glass perfume bottle, beautiful roses, the ornate mirror and an armillary sphere, which resembled a model of celestial spheres. A black cat was resting on a stack of books by the window, and gazing out at the skyline, it whispered to me some arcane poetry. Meanwhile, I was admiring a large arched window looking out over a gothic city with spires and towers beneath the gaze of a theatrical sunset and a glowing moon. Certainly, I could not resist looking at some antique books where I did find the story of my life together with all the descriptions of my dreams and my trepidations; just like my predefined fate wanted to let me know that there was no possibility of changing the events that would have happened in the future. My very name was engraved on the richly adorned cover of every volume, which resembled a bewitched grimoire. The feline companion approached me as if I were a dear friend from a past life. An absolute silence descended all over the gloomy gothic chamber and I felt more than ever that I had become just one of the several evanescent chimaeras visiting my own dreams. The spell in the mirror was but a chaotic enigma in the infinite abyss of darkness and dreams.
Elisabetta Esther