Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: deception

  • Softly In Silence

    Softly In Silence

    Softly in silence, I lie to hide all the deception and lies from my naive heart
    I had to endure an existence of deceit and coercion
    Like a nightmare ghoul oppressing my pale slumber
    In an eternal night of haunting memories and wail

    I had constantly desired to be cherished and loved in vain
    I would have rather been remembered for my art than for my beauty
    So I preferred to hide behind my shield of silence and vanish into the ephemeral aether
    Like the mystic smoke from a burning flame

    Alas, in this silence, I remained quietly still like a crystal gem
    I was a withered bloom in a winter’s storm
    Unseen, unloved, forgotten
    Cradled in the embrace of the darkness

    I did not live for the sake of grace but for the grief
    Each heartbeat was woven in the dimness
    I was but a ghost wishing only to be mourned before bleeding my heart out
    Exanimate, I was sinking into a chaotic ecstasy of sorrow

    The eternal night cherished all my forbidden secrets
    Since I was forever bound to the dim dusk
    And every instant was midnight only for me
    Because I had obliterated time permanently

    I was born just as a punishment by the hands of my wicked fate
    Even the gleaming stars of the midnight sky had no mercy
    They stared at me indifferently as if my existence was just a futility
    I had lost every privilege to dream

    Just for a moment, I strived to change my fortune
    But I had no more strength to continue to exist
    All that I could do was stare at the walls of my dark chamber and fantasise
    I let the realm of dreams and absurdities swallow me

    I had to say goodbyes to the reality and normality
    I became a creature of a world of folly and oddities
    Only frenzies raptured my heart violently, and I let them in
    Softly in silence, I fell into the abyss of my own affliction.
    Elisabetta

  • Lost In My Hallucinations

    Lost In My Hallucinations

    Lost in my hallucinations, seeking insanity and self-destruction. I made of self-loathing my eternal anthem and favourite melody. Listening to the noise of the light of the sun when it hit the petals of my flowers, I followed my own shadow in the green meadow of hope. Kneeling down I strove to protect myself from all that dazzling gleaming since I was made of darkness and decadence.

    Lies and illusions were the source of life for my soul which sought exclusively the sweet poison of deception. Wandering beneath a sad sky deprived of stars and moon, I couldn’t take control of my fears and turmoils, I forgot my name although it was carved on every stone I trampled on. Wildly led by my shattered hopes, I roamed astray into the wilderness of aborted dreams.

    Lost in my hallucinations, I was searching for myself and the sense of life while teardrops were marking imprints on my face. Memories sounded like melodies in my ears I couldn’t avoid facing them because they were like a thick cloud enfolding my heart. And words came to my mind like thunders in the middle of the night. The silent stillness soothed me slowly in my insomnia.

    I knew not what I was really and I never saw my reflection on any mirror. I was a stranger to myself and I never met any other creatures like me. I was utterly cast away, lost in the tides of my own desolation, wondering if I ever could have been different. The scent of death enticed me to follow a trail leading into an abyss of despair, where I could embrace my complete obliteration.

    Having lost my wisdom, I discovered a new shape of fictitious reality enticed to the absurd realm of fantasy. There I was not alive anymore but doomed to inexhaustible agony, where fortune frayed like a worn-out thread spun from the hands of forgotten deities. I was the manifestation of decline and defeat.
    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

  • Crying To Death

    Crying To Death

    Crying to death until I lose all my fears
    Crying to death until my heart bleeds the last drop of grief
    I don’t remember my name anymore
    I come from a faraway realm where dreams are forbidden
    I wander astray in the labyrinth of my bleeding heart

    Not anymore comforted by solace and delight
    I strive to find refuge in my secret realm of illusions
    Because I love to lie to myself with shameless boldness
    Because I love to fill my heart with deception

    I’m untamed and wild, and I don’t bow to any convention
    It’s impossible to fit my soul inside a box of comfort
    Too many thoughts crowd my mind
    Too many emotions crowd my heart
    I’m a paroxysm, a burst of madness wrapped in the quietness of my sorrow

    I love to wear exclusively beautiful vintage-style dresses and ballerinas
    I love to wear red lipstick and red nail polish
    I never cut my long blond hair because they keep my little secrets for years discretely
    I love books but sometimes I keep them closed as if I would like to guess what is going to happen next in the story

    I mainly write night and day and I cannot see myself not writing even a day
    That would be like asking me not to breathe
    I suffer in silence when I am home alone so nobody can discover it
    I never plan what I’m going to write because I believe in improvisation in poetry
    I love cloudy skies but not the rain because it makes me feel miserable

    I love to be in love but I also love to be loved and adored
    Solitude and books are my best companions, indeed the only ones
    I adore art in all its forms, music, literature and art
    Sometimes I prefer to write in a direct way and simple style without labyrinths of metaphors

    Crying to death is a way to express myself when I’m suffering unbearably
    And when I don’t feel understood and seen by the other creatures of this planet or when memories come to visit me
    After all, we suffer mainly because of indifference or tainted interactions with other entities or because of something we don’t want to remember

    I feel like an alien creature not belonging to standard society and as an introvert it’s very difficult being part of this messed ocean where I never felt comfortable. So bizarre and odd I’m in the other’s sight that I cannot blend with them.
    Therefore, I dwell in my loneliness where I have built my castle of dreams.
    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

  • Shadows Over Me

    Shadows Over Me

    Shadows over me constantly
    Hunting me like terrifying ghouls
    Frightening me to the bones
    With their obsession

    I decided to abandon myself to the sense of defeat
    A defeat due to my cruel fate of being invisible and negligible
    Like a little sparkle of light destined to its descent into the abyss of darkness
    And so, that was me

    I wish extraordinary phantasmagorias would visit me in my dreams
    But even that was impossible
    So much was the misery of my realm of existence
    Being a negligible creature destined to the cold wind of indifference

    Even the possibility of falling in love with a chimaera and an illusion of mine was a failure
    Destined to ominous omens
    While the rays of the pale moonlight stroke my hair
    I descended again into an eternal and deadly slumber

    I couldn’t see anything but a total obscurity
    I couldn’t hear but an absolute silence
    Dim and dreadful shadows descended over me
    And I couldn’t react or move in this ocean of emptiness

    Defeated again and again by a sense of tragic frailty
    I became a shadow myself
    A shadow bound to a world of lies and deception
    With the inability to flee away
    Being hushed up in an abyss of oblivion

    Being forsaken and abandoned to loneliness
    I only found comfort in the numbness and lack of emotions
    After striving to scream
    I faded away like invisible stardust

    Shadows over me grasped my heart to tear it apart
    Feeling a fractured crystal in the inside
    I couldn’t feel any pang or fear because I was myself anguish and dread
    I became a ghost lingering in the world of death and darkness

    Ethereal as I was, I wandered like a frightful spirit of the night
    Chasing every spark of light I could seize, in vain
    For I was doomed to the realm of darkness and oblivion.
    Elisabetta

  • I Lived In Death

    I Lived In Death

    I lived in death, and the death lived in me
    As long as memories were within me
    As long as I relied on my dungeon of darkness and dismay
    The daggers of betrayal stabbed my heart and soul
    Numbing my mind in an eternal slumber for a decade of decay

    Foolishness was my wisdom and guide
    For I forgot my name at a time without the time
    In the eternity of forgetfulness of myself
    Living forcefully without the intention of life
    Doomed to solitude, numbness and death

    And so I wrote my despair and desire for not being any more
    Prisoner of fate and false scenarios
    I pretended to live believing in other truths and myths
    A spell of death and violence was written on my heart
    Still not free from the cage of demise and darkness.

    I lived in death, and the death lived in me
    Trusting the undying spirits of deception
    Captivating my heart and soul like vultures
    Avid of my mystery and innocence
    Having been thrown into a cave with no way out

    Slumber was my only loyal companion in my non-life
    Slammed doors and broken windows and screams the constant guests of my trap
    Explosions and metal dust were falling over my realm of nightmares
    Dreaming of not dreaming anymore forever

    Falling into unloveable harbours of uncertainty
    Being unintentional and detached in my survival
    Nonchalant about the future as I was destined to vanish
    Secrets and memories were pinning me down like a fallen butterfly

    I lived in madness
    Pretending to exist in a phantom reality
    Striving to scream but without success
    I’ve been an embalmed doll, trapped in a glass cage
    Untouched by love.

    My heart and lips have been sealed
    By the pins of sovereignty and hegemony
    Waiting to be forever free I feast upon myself.
    Elisabetta

  • The Storm of Fire

    The Storm of Fire

    The storm of fire and water overcame the stillness of the night,
    Beneath a sky overcrowded with clouds and fire,
    A magnificent spectacle beyond every imagination,
    In the midst of the infinite emptiness.

    Darkness ruled this phantasmagorical realm of fantasy and reality,
    Where illusions and deception became the only reality,
    In a play of light and shadow beyond the visible world.

    Decadent longings blossomed like dead flowers,
    Waiting to be obliterated by the fallacious gleam of decayed stars,
    While every hope withered like smoke in the void,
    In the ephemeral realm of fleeting lusts and desires.

    Solitude and a melancholic nostalgia made sombre the sky,
    Where the moon wept silver tears upon the world of reality,
    Veiled by mantles of ash and forsaken sighs,
    lighting a requiem for dreams long buried.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Fearless Sorrow

    Fearless Sorrow

    A fearless sorrow was the ruler of the realm of darkness and delusions. Not even the silence would have been so successful without it.

    Surreal dreams succumbed to the power of deception and fear. Nothing could have been altered, not even the cynical fate, as the grasp of sorrow and despair tore everything.

    Sorrow reigned over every corner, like ivy clinging to the shadows, dragging everything into its cold embrace.

    The stars themselves blinked out of existence, one by one, as if they, too, had surrendered to the desolation.

    Unspoken lamentations filled the gloomy aura, and each sigh was a reminder of the weight of existence.

    What once flickered with hope had long been extinguished, leaving only hollow echoes where light had dared to tread.

    The horizon, once vibrant with the promise of dawn, now stood still—a jagged line dividing the unknown void from the nothingness below.

    Time itself seemed to stretch and warp, losing meaning as the days merged into one endless, suffocating night.

    Beneath the ever-looming sky, the earth trembled with the weight of forgotten truths. There was no escape, only surrender.

    Shadows crept through every crevice, whispering the secrets of eternity lost to the wind, each moment a fading spectre of what once was.

    Wandering souls, trapped between life and death, carried the burden of their broken promises.

    Each anathema blossomed as a curse in the desolate landscape, where solemn echoes of laments vanished as quickly as they appeared.

    There was no solace, no reprieve in this abyss; only the cold certainty of oblivion awaited, where cries were swallowed by the emptiness.

    Even the world had grown tired of misery and despair. The endless night stretched on, indifferent to the mortal pains.

    A fearless sorrow consumed all while the relics of longings dissolved into the void, never to return.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Garden of Nightmares

    The Garden of Nightmares

    The garden of nightmares was a wonder in the realm of fantasy,
    None could have touched the flowers of such an enchanting garden,
    Full of magic spells and arcane secrets.

    So oftentimes, it was the obsession of dreamers,
    Those who were aware of the potential dangers of such a magical place,
    Where thorns were welcome, and no scent would perfume its aura.

    Echoes of choirs singing ancient melodies revived that realm,
    A world that existed only in the imagination of the subconscious,
    A lonely and distant kingdom of beauty and torment.

    Not safe was incautiously confiding dark secrets in this hidden alcove,
    A garden whose meadows and trees were rooted in deception and betrayal,
    Leaving to luring desires the task of enchantment among luscious flowers.

    The garden of nightmares was a wonder in the realm of fantasy,
    None could have touched the flowers of such an enchanting garden,
    Full of magic spells and arcane secrets.

    So oftentimes, it was the obsession of dreamers,
    Those who were aware of the potential dangers of such a magical place,
    Where thorns were welcome, and no scent would perfume its aura.

    Echoes of choirs singing ancient melodies revived that realm,
    A world that existed only in the imagination of the subconscious,
    A lonely and distant kingdom of beauty and torment.

    Not safe was incautiously confiding dark secrets in this hidden alcove,
    A garden whose meadows and trees were rooted in deception and betrayal,
    Leaving to luring desires the task of enchantment among luscious flowers.

    In the garden of nightmares, each petal whispered secrets, wrapped in shadows’ embrace,
    While the moonlight danced softly, casting dreams on the night sky,
    In this garden, silence sang, a melody bittersweet.

    Where the vibrant hues of joy clashed with sorrow’s deceit,
    The aura was loaded with nostalgia; each whisper was a haunting sigh,
    Dreamers wandered through the maze, drawn to what might lie.

    Beneath the surface of beauty, where the heartbeats echoed slowly,
    A realm of contrasts, light and dark, where both delight and anguish grew,
    Yet, amidst the splendour, a red flag lingered near.

    For the siren call of yearning masked the lurking fear,
    Every bloom bore witness to a soul’s forsaken plight,
    Trapped within a labyrinth, lost between day and night.

    In the garden of nightmares, some dared to linger, intoxicated by the view,
    Chasing visions of a paradise where fantasies come true,
    But the thorns they had ignored drew blood from tender dreams.

    And this orchard of phantoms revealed its silent screams,
    Thus, tread lightly in the dusk where wishes intertwine,
    For within that haunting beauty lies a truth so hard to find.

    The garden, a mirror reflecting one’s innermost desires,
    A sanctuary of longings still set ablaze with fire.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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