Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: desperation

  • The Labyrinth of Despair

    The Labyrinth of Despair

    The labyrinth of despair sprawled in endless ways,
    In the twilight of forgotten days.
    Its walls, etched with sorrowed lines,
    Held shadows deep where hope declines.

    Every turn unveiled a maze,
    Twisted paths in a dismal haze.
    Fragments of delights, now long gone,
    Wove through the corridors, forlorn.

    Lost spirits wandered through the gloom,
    Their faces were etched with silent doom.
    The air was thick with unspoken dread,
    As darkness fell on dreams long dead.

    Each corner turned, the same old sight,
    A ceaseless spiral into the night.
    Grief, the guide with a cruel arrow,
    Led weary hearts through a land so narrow.

    Time had no meaning in this place,
    Where hope was but a fleeting trace.
    The clasp of the labyrinth of despair, so cold and tight,
    Swallowed the last remnants of light.

    Phantoms whispered from the walls,
    Their secrets drowned in endless calls.
    The looming shadows seemed to close in,
    A claustrophobic trap for the weary within.

    In that maze of dim despair,
    Lost entities wandered, unaware.
    Each step was a reminder of their plight,
    As the labyrinth consumed the night.

    Hope once bright, now dimmed and frail,
    Lost in the labyrinth’s endless tale.
    The spectre of fear with no end in sight,
    Crushed every spark in the dead of night.

    The labyrinth of despair twisted, endlessly vast,
    Its horrors were bound by the shadows cast.
    Forever they wandered, a spectral crew,
    In a maze where no light could pierce through.

    Desperation grew with every turn,
    As the walls seemed to tighten and burn.
    No exit appeared in the ever-shifting scene,
    A murky veil of unforeseen darkness.

    Specters writhed and danced with glee,
    Mocking the trapped wanderers endlessly.
    Their weary steps echoed in vain,
    Lost in a maze of eternal pain.

    The labyrinth’s grip held them tight,
    A prison of unending night.
    Cries were lost in the eerie plight,
    Swallowed whole by the relentless blight.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • A Life Hanging By A Thread

    A Life Hanging By A Thread

    A life hanging by a thread with no past or future,
    When shadows faded and time was erased,
    There was only a single thread,
    Thin like the whisper of a ghost.

    The walls, once festive with tales untold,
    Now stood in silence, stark and cold.
    The echoes of a life no more,
    Had faded to a tale sold.

    The thread, a spectral strand so thin,
    Had dangled from the ceiling’s rim.
    Its gossamer shimmer, pale and dim,
    Had captured life’s last, trembling whim.

    Each corner of that haunted space
    Had held a shadow’s dark embrace.
    Old portraits watched with a mournful face,
    As time had slowed its frenzied pace.

    The thread, in quiet desperation,
    Had struggled with its own vibration.
    It quivered with a deep frustration,
    A symbol of a lost vocation.

    The wind, a cold and distant sigh,
    Had tugged at the thread that hung so high.
    It whispered of a life awry,
    And dreams that flitted by the sky.

    With every gust, the thread would sway,
    As if to lead some soul astray.
    A life once vivid and bright, each day,
    Had dulled to grey and drifted away.

    In that forsaken, dim-lit chamber,
    Where silence spoke in spectral gloom,
    The thread had drawn its final loom,
    And sealed a fate of darkened doom.

    The moment came, the thread had snapped,
    A life once held was gently trapped.
    In shadows deep, it had been wrapped,
    And faded to a void, unapt.

    In the end, the thread had ceased,
    And with it, all that had once increased.
    A life had hung, its tension released,
    And drifted to the past, now peacefully deceased.

    The air grew thick with faint whispers,
    Of lives once lived, now lost, so plaint.
    The final breath had left its taint,
    And shadows mourned the thread’s restraint.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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