Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: desolation

  • Elegy Of The Withered Roses

    Elegy Of The Withered Roses

    Elegy of the withered roses was one of the hymns carved on my book of dreams
    Every time I opened it to flee the reality around me, I found myself in another world
    A realm of solace and delight but also with dreadful and disquieting hues
    Confused and dazzled, I began to proceed on my walk to the fountain of knowledge
    The more I wanted to know, the more I was convinced to know less

    My struggle to understand the mystery beyond a legend so dear to me was overwhelmed by the fear of oblivion
    As soon as I desired to open the books, decay trapped me in a state of affliction
    And nightmares hunted me like prey, wherever I was, in the garden of desolation
    What I’ve never seen before appeared in the mirror of my fate
    The truth hurt me like a dagger inside my bleeding heart

    The doom of desolation and solitude tainted every delight of mine
    Although I was fleeing the reality, I couldn’t find any haven where to rest in peace
    Sombre clouds overcrowded the night sky, obliterating all the stars
    And the moon emerged immense in her startling splendour
    As she was chanting the elegy of the withered roses

    I couldn’t understand if the shrieks I was hearing were groans of mockery or laments of sorrow
    All I could see was shadows embedded in the roots of dead trees
    Twisting like tortured souls in the abyss of perpetual despair
    Because after all, every dream of mine was a nightmare In the luminous hush of night
    Since my heart was just an imperfect relic of impetuous storms

    Nothing more could have been mended
    The rift between the realm of nightmares and longings had outgrown
    My castle of hopes and illusions had crumbled to pieces
    Its towers dissolved into mist, and its gates were devoured by stillness
    I stood in my loneliness surrounded by the debris and clutching dreams that were turned to dust
    As if sorrow itself had rewritten the fabric of my heart.
    Elisabetta

  • Drifting Away

    Drifting Away

    drifting away into nothingness
    into the total self-destruction
    not caring about the reality anymore
    letting the oblivion swallow me
    until nothing remains but only my name carved on a cold stone

    drowning deeply into the abyss of death
    where I will not be anything anymore
    not even memories will be left
    just some rhyme in the realm of dreams and decay

    fearless desires could never be lit up like inextinguishable flames
    but only frozen feelings were ruling the realm of my dreams

    the garden of my lust and passions became a desert
    where weeds of indifference grew like majestic trees
    trees of obliviousness and shallowness

    all my devotion and cherished treasures of love were destroyed by the ominous fire of betrayal
    leaving me a crashed flower with no vital signs
    just a dead flower on the cruel soil made of artificial adoration

    It’s just like a broken doll without impulse and lymph
    left alone to starve the love she really needed
    ready to be devoured by the void like she never existed

    drifting away into the valley of death and obliteration
    glad to have disappeared forever
    with regrets and remorses cling to me like Ivy

    a cruel wind spoils my heart, breaking it into pieces
    leaving me senseless, like buried alive in a trap of disloyalty

    surrendering to my defeat, I let death ruin me
    becoming fragments of stars
    fading away from the world of hypocrisy and diseases

    my screams were just too silent to be heard
    my heartbeats stopped permanently
    nothing anymore was the same
    in a garden of decay and cruelty
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Mansion of Anguish

    The Mansion of Anguish

    The mansion of anguish was filled with flowers of dread,
    Sighs echoed in each empty chamber like merry butterflies,
    The scent of betrayal penetrated every crevice of this eerie dwelling,
    As a consequence of broken vows and promises.

    The name of love has been desecrated, and love itself has been obliterated,
    In an extinguished fire, vestiges of mirth were lying,
    Buried underneath a stack of piles of ashes and blood,
    And the pain was carved on each stone.

    Hushed sobs created a fountain of dismay and grief,
    Where solitary souls had the habit of indulging secretly,
    Waiting for their lovers who were never supposed to come back,
    In a frolic of delusional hallucinations and cruel fate.

    In the middle of the night, farewell left their signs on the decayed walls and shattered mirrors,
    Leaving mere remembrances of broken hearts and aborted dreams,
    Beneath the obsessive moonlight, whose frantic light gleams stroke perpetually the dead flowers in the garden,
    While this realm of decay sparkled magnificently in all its darkness.

    Repetitive laments bloomed like blossoms of death,
    Since the mansion of anguish and sorrow emerged as a monument to decadence,
    And every star hid itself from the insistent stare of the moon’s pale and haunting gaze,
    Shadows of forsaken and lost lovers lingered, whispering fragments of unfulfilled desires and regrets into the hollow aura.

    Each murmur was enthralled by the walls that held infinite teardrops of agony,
    And every silent portrait, dimmed by epochs of neglect, seemed to weep silently in unison with the affliction around them.
    The desolate wind sighed through all the halls, shallowing the ruins of destroyed trinkets that once held sentimental bargains.
    The mansion of anguish became a despondent residence engulfed in an eternal night.
    It stood as a forgotten memorial to love’s betrayal and decay, where beauty had endlessly perished, leaving only a ghostly vestige in its haunted place.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Storm of Chaos

    The Storm of Chaos

    The storm of chaos and madness descended upon the world,
    Invisible and silent, its dangerous spell was cast,
    Like a doom of destruction and death,
    Its waves were made of hatred and despondency.

    Lost dreams in the emptiness,
    Were but ephemeral instants of joyful illusions,
    While the storm of chaos obliterated everything,
    No refuge was left for the uncautious dreamers,
    In a realm where even to dream was not conceivable anymore.

    Sorrowful angst and sadness grew like thorns,
    Among the silent stares of faint stars,
    A distant echo of lamentation whispered through the void,
    The mournful song of a world torn asunder,
    Beneath the weight of shadows, it could no longer bear.

    The sky, once alive with hope,
    Became a canvas of forsaken memories,
    Its immensity was an infinite depiction of dismay,
    Where every fleeting desire was drowned in despair.

    Mountains crumbled under the touch of a cruel spell,
    Turning to dust, like brittle crystal gems of forgotten epochs,
    The rivers dried, their waters devoured by the storm,
    Leaving behind barren wastelands, void of life and love.

    The wind, no longer a sweet embrace,
    Howled like a ghoul unleashed from the abyss,
    Carrying with it the sorrow of a thousand spirits,
    Condemned to wander in the darkness, forever lost.

    No sanctuary dwelled in this realm of devastation,
    Where yearning was an ephemeral ghost,
    And elation had long been exiled.
    Every corner was mesmerised by the storm’s fury,
    Even time itself began to erode,
    Shattered like a fragile mirror of a lost past.

    In the silence that followed the storm’s chaotic gusts,
    There lingered only the vestiges of magnificence and beauty,
    Wailing in vain for a deliverance that would never arrive,
    And still, none would respond, for the entire world had become insensitive,
    To the sound of frantic dreams and desires.

    There was no more dawn nor light,
    But only the dim glare of the dying stars,
    Whose feeble devotion faded into the cold grip of eternity.
    Indeed, the luminaries above dimmed and faded,
    As if they, too, could not bear to witness the obliteration below.

    The earth lamented beneath the weight of its sorrow,
    Cracked and scarred by the storm’s relentless clasp,
    An ethereal veil of despair threads through its very essence.
    Nothing remained pristine; nothing survived unscathed,
    Since the storm of chaos had devoured all it had struck,
    Leaving a hollow shell where once life had thrived.

    And as the last fragment of reality disappeared,
    A stillness, more profound than any before, descended,
    Wrapping the world in its frigid grasp,
    As the storm, pleased, at last withdrew,
    Leaving behind only emptiness and the eternal night.

    In this abyss of forgotten longings and shattered dreams,
    No tears were left to whine,
    Because the storm had annihilated everything,
    Its wrath left nought but ashes and whispers on the wind.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Macabre Dreams

    Macabre Dreams

    Macabre dreams descended like heavy rain on the realm of delusions,
    Transforming desires into distasteful visions,
    Where shadows writhed in the dim fog’s embrace,
    And twisted despairs occurred through the vast ocean of mirages.

    The stars and the moon were surrounded by a dim emptiness,
    Casting ghoulish shapes upon the walls of the night.
    A mournful wind disclosed secrets into hollow trees and dead flowers,
    Its outcry was a dirge that brought the whole realm to collapse.

    Phantoms wandered through the fields of forgotten woe,
    Tracing paths where only the lost dared to go.
    Their hollow laughter filled the startling ambience,
    Chilling the hearts of those who still rambled there.

    A spectre emerged from the gloom, draped in decay,
    With eyes like dim embers that slowly burned away.
    Its touch, a cold shiver, crept through the bones,
    Raising the cries of a thousand forgotten moans.

    Beneath the earth, where silence claimed its kingdom,
    And coffins murmured secrets of a restless death,
    The graves began to stir with a profound longing,
    As if yearning to rise from their slumbering soil.

    In this land where light dared not linger anymore,
    Hope dissolved, and sanity withered away.
    Time unravelled, thread by thread until nought remained,
    But the shroud of despair, eternally stained.

    Macabre dreams bloomed like tainted flames, unending,
    Their burning caress, relentless, always descending.
    No dawn would pierce this nightmarish domain,
    For here, the darkness reigned, unbroken, unfeigned.

    The whispers of the abyss grew ever near,
    Clawing at the remnants of a life once held dear.
    The burning moans of delusional dreamers grew louder, more distinct,
    Till even the silence trembled on the brink.

    And so the realm lay adrift, a world without reprieve,
    Where even the dead had no respite to grieve.
    An abyss of madness and cruelty was in its demise,
    For eternity and beyond.
    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

  • Desolation and Sadness

    Desolation and Sadness

    Desolation and sadness blossomed in a time when the tree of joy died,
    Before, the winds turned cold and cruel.
    The days were bright, but shadows prospered,
    And silence ruled in every room.

    The flowers once bloomed in glimmering lights,
    Their petals soft, their fragrance sweet,
    But seasons shifted, and they withered,
    As if the soil no longer cared to greet.

    The sky had held a shade of blue,
    A canvas where the clouds would play,
    But soon, it faded into grey,
    As mirth dissolved and dreams decayed.

    There had been a symphony of fondness in every glimmer,
    And love’s embrace was powerful and infallible.
    But hearts grew detached, hands untied,
    Leaving behind an obscure emptiness.

    The roads once bustled with busy steps,
    Crammed with the hum of life’s embrace.
    Now, only memories passed through walls,
    And loneliness had found its realm.

    The ocean once danced beneath the sun,
    Its waves created a melody of endless bliss.
    But now the shores stood bare and cold,
    Untouched by light, untouched by ardour.

    There was a time when longings were alive,
    Their sounds were so pure, their wings so light,
    Nonetheless, soon, their melodies went lost in the darkness,
    Swept away by endless nights.

    The stars had shone like scattered gems,
    Guiding the way through life’s enigmas,
    However, shortly, their light was swallowed whole,
    By darkened skies, their lustre was gone.

    Those who once believed in futures bright,
    With paths that led to beautiful shores.
    They became tired of those dreams that were left lying in the dust,
    Forgotten tales of what once soared.

    There had been smiles and giggles,
    Faded promises of days to arrive.
    But sorrow settled in their place,
    And every gust felt cold and numb.

    The past was filled with tender grace,
    A world untouched by grief’s decay.
    But time moved on, and all that was loved
    It was swept like ash and blown away.

    Desolation and sadness claimed the fields of green,
    Where no more hearts alive could have been chased,
    Indeed, now those fields lay barren, bare,
    Where joy had existed, now misery took its siege.

    The wind that brought hymns of happiness
    Suddenly, it only carried the weight of tears.
    The songs of delight and love
    Fell silent through the passing years.

    There was a remote and ancient time,
    When kindness bloomed like a springtime flower,
    But cruelty’s frost had killed the bloom,
    And shadows stretched with thriving power.

    The sun that warmed every realm
    Fell from the sky in silent grief,
    And all that once was full of life
    Fell prey to time’s relentless thief.

    In the end, only desolation and sadness lingered here,
    Of all things that went lost, of all those dreams that were known.
    Desolation ruled the land,
    And sadness bloomed where hope once grew.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Blank Silence

    Blank Silence

    Blank silence filled the solitary mansion as if the very air had been stilled by unseen hands. The echoes of sighs, once alive and vibrant voices, were now long dead, leaving only an oppressive quiet that seeped into the walls. The moon outside cast a frost and pale glow through the decayed windows, but even its light seemed muted, as though it dared not bother the stillness.

    Blank silence ruled the ancient residence, its weight pressing down on every surface. There had been a time when happiness and dreams resounded there when the sound of life loaded the halls. Now, only shadows remained, creeping and crawling over the furniture, whispering secrets that no one could ever hear. The rhythmic sway of a pendulum clock once measured time, but even that had ceased. Time itself had frozen, trapped in the grip of this hollow stillness.

    Blank silence settled deep into those who wandered through the mansion, searching for something that could no longer be remembered. The wind stroked the faded wallpaper; dead leaves ran over dusty books and cracked mirrors. But nothing looked back. There were no reflections here, no memories to cling to—only the vast emptiness stretching on and on. Invisible steps were soundless, and a ghostly breath barely could become a whisper in the choking air.

    Blank silence consumed everything, swallowing the house and all within it. The portraits on the walls stared out with blank, lifeless eyes, and the furniture seemed to sag under the weight of years. No one could tell how long they had been wandering, how many nights they had spent drifting through these halls. Time had lost all meaning here. The silence was eternal, an endless void that had stripped away all sense of reality. There was no sound, no voice, no cry. Only the hollow echo of nothingness stretched out before those who dared to wander, promising no escape.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Infinite Darkness

    The Infinite Darkness

    The infinite darkness crept over the world,
    A veil so impenetrable, no light unfurled,
    In shadows profound, where silence reigned,
    Only specs of sorrow faintly remained.
    The moon, once bright, was now cast in gloom,
    Surrendering its glow to the infinite tomb.

    Beneath the heavens, void and stark,
    A restless whisper clung to the dark,
    Forgotten dreams were laid to waste,
    Swallowed whole with ungodly haste.
    The infinite darkness, cold and still,
    Devoured the soul, crushed the will.

    No star remained in the desolate sky,
    Only the wind’s morbid sigh,
    Through crumbled towers and withered trees,
    A graveyard of lost, forlorn pleas.
    The infinite darkness shrouded all,
    A bleak abyss without recall.

    The hour was late, the world grew numb,
    To the mournful beat of a ghostly drum.
    Voices long buried rose once more,
    Whispers of anguish at death’s door.
    The infinite darkness spread its reign,
    Boundless, eternal, all in vain.

    It claimed the hearts of those who wept,
    It haunted the dreams of those who slept.
    In every crevice, every space,
    It loomed like a spectre, leaving no trace
    Of the world that was, the days of light,
    All faded now in endless night.

    The infinite darkness fed on despair,
    Its breath a chill, an empty stare,
    It pulled the living toward the grave,
    For none, not one, could hope to be saved.
    In its embrace, no warmth remained,
    Only the chill of shadows, unrestrained.

    In the distance, a bell did toll,
    A knell for every lost soul.
    The infinite darkness had won its war,
    Leaving behind an open scar
    Upon the earth, upon the sky,
    A place where even death could die.

    The infinite darkness closed its grip,
    Tight as a chain, cold as a crypt.
    And in that void, so vast, so stark,
    Nothing was left but an endless dark.
    The infinite darkness, now complete,
    Bore the silence of final defeat.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Withering Tree

    The Withering Tree

    The Withering Tree
    by Esther Elizabeth Racah

    The withering tree stood bare amidst the wood,
    Its branches once reached for skies long gone.
    Leaves had fallen where they proudly stood,
    Resilience faded with each new dawn.

    Its trunk was gnarled, scarred by time,
    Rooted deep in forsaken earth.
    It had struggled to grasp a fleeting rhyme
    Of seasons past and vanished mirth.

    Winter winds had howled through its limbs,
    Shaking loose the last of pride.
    Each gust was a reminder of forgotten hymns
    In the cold where warmth had died.

    Spring had brought no buds from its bark,
    No whispers of renewal’s grace.
    The withering tree remained stark in the dark,
    A witness to nature’s cruel embrace.

    Summer’s sun had bypassed its boughs,
    Casting shadows on its forlorn frame.
    While life thrived in neighbouring crowds,
    The tree had stood still, devoid of flame.

    Autumn had arrived, but no colours blazed—
    They had long since faded away.
    The withering tree had endured in a sombre daze,
    A symbol of endless, silent decay.

    The ground beneath it had cracked and dried,
    No rain to quench its thirsty roots.
    Silent beneath an empty sky,
    Where once it had borne green shoots.

    Each storm that passed had left no mark;
    Its branches swayed but never bent.
    The tree had remained a hollow arc,
    Its growth and life long spent.

    It stood as a sombre sight,
    A monument to forgotten days.
    Its vibrant leaves had lost their light,
    In a landscape shrouded by decay’s haze.

    As seasons changed and years went by,
    The tree became a ghostly shade.
    Its story whispered to the sky,
    In silence, where it slowly decayed.

    In the forest where it once reigned,
    The withering tree’s memory waned—
    A symbol of time’s relentless strain,
    Where life’s echoes had long been drained.

© Esther Racah 2025. All rights reserved.