Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: dead trees

  • Love Like A Sweet Poison

    Love Like A Sweet Poison

    Love like a sweet poison seeped into the heart, and time no longer existed in the realm of the eternal night. Passion burned as an everlasting flame and it altered into eternal desire.

    A tenacious devotion was rooted in a ground made of ice and stardust. And I stood among crimson roses and the nocturnal mist, under the sight of an eerie moon.

    The darkness enveloped me like a sumptuous dress wrapped around me. The faraway shadows of anguish and dread were chasing me like ominous ghouls.

    I was seeking ghosts that reminded me of lost loves while wandering accompanied by my madness as the only chaperone.

    No pang could ever touch me anymore since I’ve been depleted of my heart that was standing on a dry branch of a dead tree, beating loudly like an incessant cry.

    My only way to exist was to roam erratically without any guidance. I was already a creature of the world of darkness. I had altered a myriad times in numerous ways.

    I had definitely forsaken the world of mortals, with whom I never felt any affinity. I didn’t mind losing myself in that tremendous labyrinth.

    As far as I could proceed, I felt the nothingness swallowing me with delight. A storm had subjugated me and shattered my being.

    Not even a speck of myself had been kept by the frozen soil, because a whirlwind had stolen my essence. I was held captive by the abyss of darkness and there were no expectations or delusions.

    I finally remembered as a long-lost memory that time no longer existed, when love seeped into the heart like a sweet poison. It burned slowly, transforming into eternal desire.

    And there I lay down underneath the soil soaked with ice and flames with my heart standing on a dry branch of a dead tree, dreaming fearlessly and ceaselessly like a funerary elegy.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • A Heart Of Stone

    A Heart Of Stone

    A heart of stone and blood was mine in the afterlife
    In my underworld abode full of evanescent masks and weeping phantoms
    A magic tower of spells touching the sky and the metallic moons
    Surrounded by soft clouds and dead trees

    Each mask whispered terrible secrets to me
    While smiling like court jesters inside the unbreakable walls of my castle
    A castle made of bones and blood of my enemies
    Beneath the shining firmament visited by the moons with many countenances

    I was the queen of the tragic world of pity and descend
    My decadence made a throne for me, carved in sorrow
    And there I lingered, dressed in shining sparkles and moonlight
    My gown was forged with threads of sighs and desires

    My gown was the manifestation of sighs and desires
    Eerie candles with their trembling flames cast light upon my visions
    Longings coiled like serpents made of smoke
    The walls wept decayed memories and each mirror was a doorway to arcane mysteries

    My absolute silence was a hymn to all I had lost
    The moons grieved the weight of my dismay
    An eternal ghost similar to myself waited for me beyond my crystal windows
    Ruins and beauty crowned me their sovereign

    My destiny was engraved in shadow and starlight
    I wandered in the labyrinth of forsaken fortunes
    I felt that the ancient soil trembled beneath my steps
    My heart was still carved from stone, seeking solace in vain

    I couldn’t break free from the chains of my own sorrow
    Although I reached for my reflection in the mirror
    And I knew that this was the fate I had chosen
    I knew I belonged to the occult underworld as an ethereal creature of darkness.
    Elisabetta

  • Bleeding Flowers

    Bleeding Flowers

    Bleeding flowers bloomed in the garden of decay,
    Where the soil was soaked in blood and tears,
    Obscene dreams were made of darkness and despair,
    Surrounded by the scent of indecent nightmares.

    A storm of horror and darkness overwhelmed the garden,
    A blast of fragments of fear tormented the bleeding flowers,
    Under the distress of obsession and madness,
    Leaving crystals to shine bright only in the dreams of delusional romantics.

    Beneath the twisted branches of hollow trees, shadows danced in dread,
    Laments of forgotten souls stirred the stagnant air,
    The stars could not glow anymore, as phantom’s ghostly stares,
    Ropes made of spider webs were woven through the madness, a night beyond decency.

    In this surreal realm where nothing pure remained,
    Lovers’ vows were buried deep in graves of dust and sand,
    The bleeding flowers wilted, bound by cursed chains,
    In a world consumed by rot and broken trust.

    Some delusional hearts still dared to hope,
    Being beauty still ruling in those nightmares, fleeting delusional visions,
    The garden bound them in its deadly scope,
    Its embrace was an eternal, cold, and empty trap.

    Bleeding flowers with crimson petals and leaves,
    Their thorns were long and sharp, ready to hurt those admirers of their beauty,
    With their invisible grimaces, these ethereal blossoms pierced
    Feeding themselves with blood and tears.

    Gone desires were just doomed memories of delightful instants,
    Doom and decay fed the garden of dilapidation,
    A hopeless existence was the life of dead trees and bleeding flowers,
    Not anymore could have been rescued from that eternal doom.

    Not even wraiths, not even phantoms, were able to wander in that terrible garden,
    The garden of beauty and blood where the most dreadful agony ruled supreme,
    And time stroke each second like a spasm of agony.
    An endless nightmare of abhorrent darkness.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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