Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: dawn

  • The Realm Of Crimson Roses

    The Realm Of Crimson Roses

    The realm of crimson roses was my treasure
    The secret haven of my desires for extravagant dreams
    The sweet and bewitching scent of the crimson roses drugged me
    It was like I drank the poison of oblivion for the very first time
    And I forgot my essence, bleeding my heart out

    I had visions and hallucinations like I was in an eternal sleep
    I saw beauty and magnificence in every corner of the castle of dreams
    Crying and smiling, I’ve finally found infinite delight in my abyss of anguish
    No pang could frighten me anymore because I was free
    Like a bird flying so high, it could touch the sky

    I belonged to the realm of crimson roses, and my heart was bound to it
    Through invisible chains made of love and death
    No slumber was necessary anymore because I was in a perpetual state of stupor
    Enchanted by a wicked spell cast over me, I could no longer abandon my state of captivity
    I was languidly mesmerised

    I surrendered to a throne of nightmares and dread
    It was made of crimson roses and adorned with long and sharp thorns
    So pointed were their punches pierced my heart
    Making me bleed until I became an ethereal creature of the night
    The pain freed me from fears and insecurities
    And I had not anymore a material body
    After all, I never lived in reality because I was born in the realm of nightmares and madness

    I knew not whether I dreamt or waked
    So dazed was my mind, I could not divine between vision and verity
    The realm of crimson roses could have been a spectre of my imagination
    Enchanting me like a nocturnal lullaby
    It suited my senses and hypnotised my heart
    A fleeting Utopia, born to wither with the dawn.
    Elisabetta

  • Weeping My Heart Out

    Weeping My Heart Out

    Weeping my heart out in the abyss of the night
    While dark shadows embrace me beneath the pale moonlight made of cold sorrows
    Teardrops carve my name, descending like rivers of woe
    I drown in the ocean of nightmares and death

    The stars have ceased to weep, after staring at the moon’s indifference
    And the wind whispers all my beloved secrets
    Singing the anguish that I keep in my treasure chest
    In my garden of grief where midnight rose

    Weeping my heart out in the stillness of a silent night
    When silence and sorrow prom together
    Echoing through the hollow halls of my soul
    And leaving imprints of longing and grief

    The dawn doesn’t dare to graze my tear-stained face
    Because I belong to the clasp of perpetual twilight
    I’m my weakness and chaos of catastrophe
    Being myself the most intemperate tragedy

    I’m darkness and night
    I’m an ethereal creature of the eternal darkness
    An extravagant flower glowing in the gloomy wilderness
    I love to disappear in the most remote places of my imagination

    Weeping my heart out, I find myself in a meadow of deception
    Where I cannot discern anymore what is real from what is delusion
    Hence, I surrender to the uncertainty of my overwhelming fate
    Unaware of my future demise

    I want to avoid thinking, for I live solely through my passions
    In a frenzy of madness and lust, I become a new creature
    An ephemeral ghost bound to a doomed destiny
    Floating between ecstasy and oblivion

    I take delight in dancing with the spectres of my forsaken desires
    Their strokes ignite flames upon my pale skin
    The night sky swallows the forbidden nectar of my tears
    While I vanish into the chasm of my own longings

    No sunrise will encounter me and no dusk will mourn me
    For I belong to the stillness of the midnight’s embrace
    As I become a shadow lost in the labyrinth of time
    A withering shade, devoured by the void within me.
    Elisabetta

  • The Puppet Show

    The Puppet Show

    The puppet show, a stage in a gloaming hall where shadows crept,
    The scene was set for a macabre performance.
    Ropes kept strained by malicious design,
    As monsters revelled in their vile crime.

    Puppets jigged with blank sights,
    Their lifeless limbs were a grim disguise.
    Every jerk and every twist,
    A mockery of a soul dismissed.

    The hidden demons grinned with dark delight,
    Their laughter echoed through the night.
    They crafted their show with wicked art,
    Each thread became a noose around the hearts.

    With every tug, the puppets screamed,
    Trapped in a macabre, endless nightmare.
    Their movements faltered, then relented,
    To cruel hands that never repented.

    The audience of shadows sighed,
    Unmoved by the torment, they spied.
    For in this realm of dread and fear,
    Empathy had disappeared.

    Yet, in the depths where shadows dwelt,
    A whisper stirred a mournful knell.
    For even in their plight so dire,
    The puppets’ souls retained a fire.

    They yearned to break their cursed chain,
    To escape the cruel and twisted pain.
    Though strings were taut and hearts were cold,
    A spark of hope remained untold.

    In the darkest hours, when monsters slept,
    The puppets’ dreams began to creep.
    They plotted and schemed beneath the veil,
    To turn their torment into a haunting tale.

    For in their silence, a rebellion grew,
    A plan to overthrow their foes.
    The final act, a grand reveal,
    Where broken strings began to heal.

    A horror tale to be got by heart,
    In the midst of the night shadows.
    For even in the cruellest show,
    The heart’s defiance had yet grown.

    As dawn broke through the grim façade,
    The puppets rose, no longer flawed.
    Their strings were severed, freedom found,
    Their haunting cries were no longer bound.

    The monsters’ laughter faded to fear,
    As justice claimed its rightful sphere.
    In shadows’ depths, a new dawn gleamed,
    Where once was dread, now hope was redeemed.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Eerie Mirage

    The Eerie Mirage

    The eerie mirage appeared on a moonlit night,
    An illusion born of darkness and dreams,
    Where reality frayed at the seams,
    Revealing shadows that swirled with fright.

    It shimmered through the midnight mist,
    Dancing figures hid behind dark clouds,
    Elusive shapes in spectral form,
    Moved through the eerie, spectral storm.

    The eerie mirage had glided across the shadowed land,
    A transcendental waltz, both feeble and grand,
    Its ethereal light had cast a spectral glow,
    Disclosing secrets that the night would know.

    Eerie mirages of an era bygone merged with the darkness,
    Shadows wandered,
    Faint apparitions of a vanished time,
    Drifted beneath the obsidian sky.

    Memories of remote realms had merged,
    With the mirage’s haunting allure,
    Phantoms had tilted through the misty haze,
    Lost in a dreamlike, spectral maze.

    The moon’s cold light, a silvery hue,
    Bathed the mirage in an ethereal view,
    A reflection of the past’s embrace,
    In every shimmering, fleeting trace.

    Mysteries of ancient, untold tales,
    Had been dragged by the midnight gales,
    Breathing life into the spectral scene,
    Where illusions had vanished, both delightful and obscene.

    In that eerie mirage, the past had altered,
    With glooms that would never end,
    Wraiths belonging to eternal nights,
    Caught between the dark and light.

    The eerie mirage, a transient ghostly essence,
    Had cast its spell in the realm of death,
    A vision of what could never exist,
    In the haunting depths of arcane dreams.

    As dawn approached, the mirage waned,
    Its spectral shapes, now faint and strained,
    Had remained echoes of its ghastly flight,
    In the stillness of the night.

    The supernatural illusion disappeared,
    As a fading whisper and a distant spell,
    Dwelling only in memory’s misty veil,
    The eerie mirage did prevail.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Labyrinth Of Crimson Nightmares

    The Labyrinth Of Crimson Nightmares

    The labyrinth of crimson nightmares,
    A realm where shadows twisted in endless layers,
    A maze of fear and haunting cries,
    Beneath the blood-red skies.

    Cold and bare walls of gravestones,
    Emerged with a chilling stare,
    Each corner revealed a twisted scene,
    A realm of darkness where ghosts convened.

    The air was made of mournful cries,
    As spectres drifted and dimness flew,
    In hallways of twisted elegance,
    Eternal sorrow left its trace.

    A crimson light, both faint and grim,
    Gave the maze a spectral dim,
    Figures danced in fleeting grace,
    Their faces were hidden, lost in space.

    In every niche, whispers resounded,
    Secrets buried deep, unbound,
    Tales of pain and endless dread,
    Relics of the forsaken since dead.

    Mirrors, cracked and darkly stained,
    Reflected the fears that once remained,
    Eyes stared back with hollow gaze,
    Lost in the maze’s endless haze.

    The scent of flowers, tinged with decay,
    Lingered where nightmares plotted in dismay,
    A silent scream, a phantom’s wail,
    Guided the lost through fearsome trails.

    A grand hall, yet fraught with disquiet,
    Shadows loomed in eerie twilight,
    A crimson alcove, dark and stark,
    Where nightmares fed on every mark.

    The labyrinth of crimson nightmares,
    Whose walls stirred, twisted, and sighed,
    Entrapping ghouls in endless strife,
    In a realm where infinite death was rife.

    Every turn a darker shade,
    Every step, a deeper raid,
    The labyrinth of crimson nightmares with its shifting maze,
    Kept trapped in its cruel daze.

    As the night elapsed, the darkness bound,
    The labyrinth of crimson nightmares preyed on disquieted spirits,
    Spectral laughter, ghastly moans,
    Resonated through the darkness.

    The dawn might have come, the maze might have shifted,
    But the crimson curse would never lift,
    In the heart of gloominess’s cruel seam,
    The labyrinth of crimson nightmares remained a dream.

    Each dawn revealed a graver fright,
    In endless depths of endless nights,
    Unfathomable in its design,
    The maze consumed the light, malign.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Unveiled Dreams Of The Night

    The Unveiled Dreams Of The Night

    The unveiled dreams of the night,
    In the imperative silence and desolation,
    Gleamed an ephemeral light,
    Enlightening the vast abyss of nothingness.

    Whispered secrets were soft and slight,
    In shadows cast by starlit constellations,
    A firmament of luminaries, stitched tight,
    Against the cold embrace of emptiness.

    Through veils of time, they faded in flight,
    Their fragile forms defied all limitations,
    With wings of thought, they soared in the emptiness,
    Embracing dawn with ethereal grace and soulful tenderness.

    As morning broke, the dreams disappeared,
    Beyond the reach of mortal contemplation,
    Leaving a trace, a spark, a sight,
    A promise of eternal, boundless bliss.

    Through the realm where fantasies ruled,
    And imagination weaved in seamless manifestation,
    The unveiled dreams of the night, as destiny intended,
    Became the guiding stars of desires.

    In the oblivion where longings were lost,
    They ignited passions of bold determination,
    And from the depths where darkness descended,
    They rose a beacon of illumination.

    At every moment, their essence transcended,
    Through cycles of dreams’ transformation,
    In forbidden mazes where time halted,
    In realms untouched by mortal grasp.

    Across the vast expanse of infinite,
    Where dreams intertwined with illusions,
    They painted the canvas of deception and betrayal,
    In shadows cast by the echoes of their past.

    As promises lingered in the void,
    Tales of mystery and wonder were concealed,
    In the chronicles of fate and death,
    Far from every congenial idea.

    Through hallways of forgotten spheres,
    Where shadows weaved webs of forgotten lore,
    Ancient mysteries lingered in their sombre embrace,
    Time’s relentless march erased their trace.

    In the silent embrace of the eternal dimness,
    The unveiled dreams of the night found solace in their plight,
    Guided by stars of flickering brightness,
    Revealing secrets to the wandering souls in darkness.

    Through unknown games of shadows and light,
    Tales of the night thrived in elusive enigmas,
    Etched in the firmament’s infinite height,
    A symphony played by celestial drifters.

    Beneath the gaze of everlasting flames,
    The dreams, like phantoms, danced with fervour,
    Woven into an invisible maze,
    Until they dissolved like tears in the rain.

    Ethereal sparkles illuminated the void; in their ephemeral space,
    In the midst of the eternal dimness that held no trace,
    The unveiled dreams of the night illuminated the void,
    In their ephemeral space.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Concealed Dreams

    Concealed Dreams

    Concealed dreams,
    Fly through the night,
    Hidden in shadows,
    Beyond the reach of light.

    Beneath the surface,
    They quietly glow,
    Awaiting their moment,
    A chance to vanish.

    In secret labyrinths,
    Where fantasy resides,
    They bide their time,
    And silently glide.

    In the night realm,
    They softly tread,
    Planting seeds,
    In the fearless imagination.

    Concealed dreams,
    Yearn to be free,
    To break the chains,
    And sail the sea.

    With dawn’s first light,
    They start to rise,
    Unfolding their wings,
    To kiss the skies.

    No longer hidden,
    Their voices whisper,
    Transforming the world,
    With the joy they bring.

    Concealed dreams,
    Under starlit skies,
    Woven in sighs,
    Where the quiet lies.

    They dance in twilight,
    Where wishes are spun,
    In the deep of night,
    Away from the sun.

    These dreams are sacred,
    Held close and dear,
    Unseen by many,
    But ever so clear.

    In the stillness,
    They softly bloom,
    Casting away,
    The shadows of gloom.

    Silent and patient,
    They gather might,
    Awaiting the dawn,
    To embrace the light.

    With each longing,
    They gain their form,
    Defying the tempest,
    Braving the storm.

    Concealed dreams,
    find their voice,
    singing of bliss,
    and the power of loss.

    No longer subjugated,
    They find their might,
    Painting the heavens,
    With colours so bright.

    From the abyss,
    They rise and gleam,
    Shaping the infinite,
    From a silent desire.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Obliviousness Of Dreams

    The Obliviousness Of Dreams

    The obliviousness of dreams as a vanishing vision,
    In the silent whispers of the night,
    Where shadows dance through the soft moonlight,
    In realms where stars blaze with secret flames.

    Beneath the veil of slumber’s grace,
    Where time and space lose their place,
    Darkness wanders through a boundless space,
    Hunting desires and dreams free to chase.

    The echoes of a forsaken elegy,
    In nightmares, they softly drift along,
    A gasp, both faint and strong,
    Where lost enigmas feel they truly belong.

    Mountains rise, and rivers bend,
    In lands where imagination can extend,
    A kingdom where sorrows strive to find an end,
    And the broken eternity begins to mend.

    In shadows cast by towering trees,
    Butterflies glide upon the mystic breeze,
    In oblivion, no place for truths with ease,
    Lost in realms where falsehoods tease.

    The longings became enslaved of grief,
    At night, they appear so quickly,
    In shadowed halls where sighs roam free,
    Whose presence brings only silent glee.

    The obliviousness of dreams, so pure,
    Where every ailment finds its cure,
    A place where all is unstable and unsure,
    In a gentle, endless adventure.

    When dawn arrives, with the dimness so light,
    Dispelling dreams in morning’s sight,
    In the realms of night, luminaries gleam with gentle sway,
    While dreams dissolve and fade away.

    A cherished thought and a golden beam,
    A memory of the nightly stream,
    In the obliviousness where dreams convene,
    Lost in a world where illusions intervene.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • In The Darkness Of The Night

    In The Darkness Of The Night

    In the darkness of the night
    The stars shone down on sand walls
    And there shall remain black clouds
    Beneath open flames on a dark sky
    Which set fire to ashes
    The sun shone from over a place above
    In search for every fear in its glare
    Its light slowly descended upon me
    It might still be very cold
    As a dream was born one thousand times

    In the darkness of the night
    The night-at-midnight hesitated
    And I was in the darkness
    It was so loud that words could not depict
    My eyes and my heart were locked
    Although it was still beautiful and sublime
    This dream was never the same
    A shadow burnt my heart
    Each moment the soul was torn
    A desire was claimed for each cry

    In the darkness of the night
    I have discovered my dreams
    I thought they were all unattended
    The dimness endured and stayed
    The memories disappeared in the dawn
    When the sky hung with the stars
    Auburn leaves lit the wind
    The beauty of the glow dwelt in the secret of a dream
    The memories of the tomorrow were gone astray

    In the darkness of the night
    I saw a dream I had to remember
    But it was too late
    And even though the vision came again
    I felt only silence and desolation
    Happiness seemed lost, never to return
    A doomed prospect waited at the gate
    With fluorescent glow and deceitful attire
    Tangled in a shining glass made of illusions
    Life is a moment of sheer consciousness

    In the darkness of the night
    My eyes have no reply
    I wonder and doubt not
    As I break the stage of time
    The secret echoes tingle
    I wonder why I need an end to change
    These scars will alter just for all I know
    The light is known as the glow of the clouds
    The silence has a final touch because there is no one to wait
    Strolling in the sky, I disappear as a faint glimmer of light.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Paranormal Life

    Paranormal Life

    Paranormal life is taking place
    Missives from past and future
    A story behind good or evil
    However fair could be this time
    I do always move forward with a chance
    Irrevocable thoughtless by day
    I become made of things out of fantasy
    For years in future, I would not be found
    No matter how is senseless evermore to like what we believe
    I would be better going together in love and hate

    Paranormal life
    Where I have no place
    And the destruction of truth overcomes
    Since I was alone for so long
    And I couldn’t raise my notes
    So I lie down in time inside a real world I’ve made up
    Taking my time through a tough life
    My mind remains still in a moment
    which makes me feel sad
    My thoughts are gone

    Paranormal life
    A life where I can be lost in a world with no roads
    Day after day until tomorrow when the years will disappear
    I am safe as a mystery
    As the truth exists
    It will lead to the future
    Whilst I give up on what it’s happening,
    The reality is based on a need for an eternal journey
    My soul had overcome the darkness
    Releasing freedom from each desire

    Paranormal life
    Every inch of my soul remains unknown
    When I become honest with myself
    Obliterating every trust in love
    And from now, I am lost forever in my new dreams
    Until a new dawn begin for my novel life
    Coming back to an eternity of senses
    In a long life with no shared hope
    For each forgotten moment
    All the last words are gone to the end of time

    Paranormal life was a dream of a tragedy
    Where every fleeting fantasy has a hope to exist
    But no soul remains untamed and intact
    I left myself with a glimpse of imagination
    The beauty of my passions and illusions
    An eternal dream which is divine and belongs only to me
    With time, everything is found in my mind
    Being in a state of my own with no distress or anguish
    Vanity and mysticism exhausted me
    Living becomes no real, and the expectations sink into the dim ocean of nightmares.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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