Tag: dark romanticism

  • My Illusions

    My Illusions

    My illusions concealed the bright stars and the moon. I was sure that I couldn’t rely totally on my perceptions and conceptions of life and dreams. I didn’t know anything, but the only thing I could do was cry in my loneliness on a long night when no stars and no moon were visible to my eyes. All my memories were hanging in my mind like paintings. They were like thunders during a night storm in the ocean whose foundation was made of nightmares and suspiciousness.

    Beneath the shadows of hollow trees, I found my dwelling to rest free from the clouds of anxiety and distress. No glooms of sadness could prevent me from looking at the night sky. Maybe it was just a dream, but I couldn’t avoid staring at the dark and starless firmament. I dared to question my senses, but all that I could obtain was confusion and dizziness. In a realm where everything seemed absurd, odd, and meaningless, I strove to find a sense in my ephemeral existence.

    I had ceased to comprehend what was truth and what was deception. The night with its frightful shadows and wraiths, became my loyal companion, so sweet and lovely. No one could ever separate us, not even for an instant. The magic wisdom of the gift of madness was so sublime and exquisite. Unique was the foolishness of my silent heart. Invisible and abandoned in the quest for my fate, I explored labyrinths and mangroves in the wilderness of my imagination.

    My illusions deceived me repetitively, as I attempted to sugarcoat my lonely desolation, deprived as I was of every solace and comfort. I saw the dirty squalor being put on the sacred altar of devotion and veneration. Mortal souls preferred profanities and obscenities to sublimity, beauty and virtue. The world of mortals was shamefully collapsing in front of my eyes and I preferred to shut myself down in my boundless dungeon of illusions, nightmares, dreams and hallucinations. To never be back to that false and tainted world.
    Elisabetta

  • My Song Of Agony

    My Song Of Agony

    My Song Of Agony

    this is my song of agony
    I wish I had understood before
    my fault is my fragility and vulnerability
    being like a child who had never been protected
    as a consequence of all the abuses
    I had to endure in my life
    without any protection

    to be loved and protected is a delight I will never know
    I am not any more broken inside
    because I have been already shattered to fragments of myself
    I am not any more a whole creature
    being always cynically exploited by others
    the only things to keep me alive is my poetry
    which is part of my body and soul

    I am poetry, and it is the purest part of me
    poetry for pure and naive souls
    poetry for creatures who are honestly in love
    a pure love that doesn’t betray
    love is not just a short sentence
    fake love is a successful tool to lure a pure soul
    pure love is the most sublime of all feelings
    which should not be used to hurt fragile souls
    souls who never met kindness, love and compassion

    because it is so hard to be me
    I am not just a freaky girl for the sake of being “cool”
    there are traumas and abuses behind my being a “dark romantic” poet
    in an aura of romantic torments and anguishes
    being an exotic flower and an unconventional girl
    the Israeli Jewish girl with “that Italian” accent

    and there is also my loss since two years
    which I still feel a lot
    not having a father is miserable
    not having more chance to have a family
    being lonely and alone
    no love
    no affection
    just the coldness of a cynic society

    this is my song of agony and pain
    living a life made of words, passions and love
    love burns me alive
    love pierces my heart
    I scream in agony
    it is the scream of my bleeding heart
    and all the stars of the universe collide
    merging in a hybrid star
    which is inside my heart

    I cannot stop loving
    I cannot stop dreaming
    a transcendental love
    without reward
    without return.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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