Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: dream

  • The Abyss Of Desolation And Affliction

    The Abyss Of Desolation And Affliction

    The abyss of desolation and affliction appeared to me in a dream.
    I could not tell if it was a hallucination
    or some malevolent spirit that had caught me
    in the torpor of my nightly slumber.

    Spectres appeared to me, agile and winged,
    Their claws etched marks upon my skin,
    As if to inscribe arcane messages
    Beyond my mortal grasp to decode.
    The moon shone bright and awe-inspiring above,
    An eternal night enveloped all,
    Where swirling clouds danced,
    A solemn escort to those shadowy phantoms.

    Figures cloaked in hidden mantles and hoods,
    As if unwilling to reveal their names,
    Lay inert along a river—
    At times, it was a still pond, and at times, it was a shimmering lagoon.

    I felt a weight of oppression and annihilation,
    As if all my feelings and desires
    Had been obliterated in the presence
    Of such a bleak and haunting landscape.

    I could not feel joy or enthusiasm
    At the very moment I realised
    That the slightest hope might be mistaken for illusion,
    Denying me the grace to surrender
    To my senses, to my subconscious.

    I walked with uncertain steps,
    So unsteady was the path before me.
    No clear horizon met my gaze,
    Only shadows stretching into the unknown.

    Having firmly shut the doors of the past,
    I had renounced all that belonged to that world,
    Memories included — or at least I tried to deny them.
    Yet certain ghosts of old, like skeletons risen from nightmares,
    Pursued me wherever I went,
    With steady, relentless steps.
    And I, breath held tight,
    Sought refuge in that realm of shadowy spirits.

    Monsters of a time long lost,
    They watched me slyly from their hiding places,
    Plotting behind my back a possible attack,
    A grasp for power, as if I were a helpless creature,
    Ready to fall into their claws.
    But truly, I knew well that my heart belonged to myself,
    And no one nor nothing could taint it
    With their corruption and decay.
    Lisa

  • Sad Dreams

    Sad Dreams

    Sad dreams in the middle of a sleepless night,
    When silence ruled the realm of sounds,
    And the darkness was the only companion in the nocturnal fate,
    Faraway from tranquillity and joy.

    Sad thoughts provoked teardrops falling like a nighttime rain shower,
    Lost dreams became remembrances of chimaeras echoing their defeat.

    In an eternal dreamlike night, the clouds of illusions hid the pale countenance of the sombre moon,
    Which was jealous of the gleaming happiness of the stars,
    And the infinite void stared at the sky with a sense of wonder and uncertainty.

    Visions that belonged to an imaginary universe appeared like phantoms of desires and passions that were never meant to exist in the real world.

    The infinite nothingness concealed enigmas with sorrow and dread,
    Every reminiscence became a shadow, and every hope was extinguished by the coldness of the emptiness.

    Vast and oppressive utopias were the domains where the soul wandered desperately,
    Seeking consolation from the decayed ruins of broken oaths.

    And even in these forsaken lands, glooms clung to every dream,
    Betrayal etched itself into the fabric of love and devotion,
    Into a labyrinth of despair, where fragments of failure carved their mark,
    Souls were bound to an endless cycle of anguish and regret.

    Dreamers were burdened by the consequence of invisible chains of betrayal and disloyalty,
    They moved as though wading through rivers of ink and sand.
    The stars dimmed their gleam, offering no guidance,
    While the moon turned its pale face away in quiet disdain.

    The storm’s gusts carried the lament of epochs past,
    Their wails pierced the ethereal veil of endless nights.

    Are dreams supposed to perish, or do they live on in the dark, forsaken and unseen?
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • A Dream of Solitude

    A Dream of Solitude

    A dream of solitude in the immensity of the void,
    Like silent screams that faded away in the storm of darkness,
    In a realm where everything was upside down,
    And passions were repressed by a frigid wind of indifference.

    In the stillness of the night,
    Fearless dreams strived to rule the magic world of fantasy,
    Flowing like an impetuous stream,
    Emotions bloomed like nocturnal flowers.

    Everything was so close and so far, at the same time,
    The cold of the night attempted to freeze pulsing hearts in vain,
    What could have happened in the future,
    That was an arcane secret.

    Shadows swirled in the magnificent garden of forgotten hopes,
    Where memories lay buried beneath
    the weight of time,
    Like ancient relics entangled in thorns,
    Like unspoken words and broken promises,
    as if the very atmosphere exhaled sorrow.

    Dreaming was wandering through twisted paths,
    It was like getting lost in the labyrinth of unending despair,
    When blazing desires of light that once shone in distant days,
    But finding only the pale glow of a dying moon.

    Time seemed to fold upon itself, an eternal twilight
    where neither daybreak nor dusk could find its place.
    In the eerie stillness, whispers danced like phantoms,
    telling tales of love that perished in the void.

    In that darkness, no faint flicker could have endured,
    Indeed, every spark of light was defied by the overwhelming night.
    Every longing was a fragile dream clinging to the edge of oblivion,
    And ready to fade away into the infinite void.

    And so, utopias continued to exist for the eternity,
    The firmament shone because of the numerous stars that were glowing in it,
    Only for illusionary instants of time,
    Their light deceiving those who gazed above,
    Promising dreams that would fade with the dawn.

    The night was a canvas of shadows and lies,
    And hope was a flicker soon swallowed by the dark,
    Now, a dream of solitude was shattered like a frail crystal.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • A Night of Illusions

    A Night of Illusions

    A night of illusions and dreams in the realm of nowhere,
    Where shadows crept, and whispers filled the still, damp air.
    The moon hung low, a pale ghost in the starry sky,
    Casting spectral light on graves long and dry.

    Winds howled like banshees through trees long dead,
    Their gnarled branches reached, filled with dread.
    Crimson leaves scattered in the night,
    Cloaked in darkness, absent of light.

    A night of illusions, where reality frayed,
    Through twisted paths, a figure strayed.
    Each step grew heavier, like feet carved from stone,
    The ground below whined, archaic and cold as bone.

    Eyes glowed from hollows, hidden in the darkness,
    Watching every move, waiting to strike, heartless.
    A chill crept down each spine, freezing all breath,
    The air was thick with decay, the scent of death.

    In the distance, a chapel, broken and bleak,
    Its doors cracked open with a hollow creak.
    It beckoned, its silence heavy with dread,
    Inside, only wails of the forsaken dead.

    Candles flickered, faint embers on the wall,
    Casting eerie shadows, giants dark and tall.
    The silence screamed louder than any sound,
    As knees touched the cold, stone ground.

    The wind seemed to whisper a forgotten name,
    A soul trapped forever in a cold, endless flame.
    Cobwebs clung to the altar, brittle and old,
    Where stories of sorrow and death had been told.

    Mysterious figures appeared, cloaked in tattered black,
    Their hollow gaze stared a shadow at the back.
    They beckoned forward into the abyss,
    Promising solace with ghostly grimaces.

    A night of illusions and nightmares, an entranced and silent visitation,
    As mist gathered thickly, a mournful pall.
    Deeper ghouls went through crypts of stone,
    Where no heart had beat, no seed had been sown.

    A voice whispered, soft and clear,
    “Welcome to your fate; you belong here.”
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Forsaken Dreams

    Forsaken Dreams

    Forsaken dreams lay scattered like leaves on a desolate lawn,
    Beneath the weight of darkness, shadows loomed and sighed.
    A castle crumbled in the grip of despair,
    Fragments of hope were lost and hanging in the void.

    Wandering through silence where visions once soared,
    Stillness wrapped tightly around the forgotten.
    Each step was like drifting through memories frayed,
    As ghosts of ambition haunted paths once laid.

    Forgotten dreams, like stars turned to ash,
    Fleeting glimpses of futures that faded too fast.
    The sounds now muted, cold as stone,
    While shadows enveloped, tales left unknown.

    In a chamber of portraits, their faces half-blurred,
    The dreams of youth, in stillness, unheard.
    Calling from corners of places long lost,
    Whispering gently of the lines once crossed.

    Nonetheless, deep in the stillness, a flicker of pain,
    Forsaken dreams lingered; in shadows, they remained.
    Each one a reminder of battles hard-fought,
    Of fires within that time forgot.

    But hope lay buried, covered in dust,
    From ashes of sorrow, it rose from distrust.
    Gathering fragments, each whisper, each scream,
    In the dark of the night, the lost dream was redeemed.

    Mended the pieces, igniting a spark,
    Reviving the forgotten, illuminating the dark.
    For dreams, though shattered, never entirely die—
    In the heart of the dreamer, they eternally lie.

    Through the mist of despair, a path was found,
    With each heartbeat, shadows chased from the ground.
    Though night still lingered, dawn followed close,
    And in the garden of longing, hope arose.

    With courage reborn, a star now stood,
    Embracing the dawn, the new morning understood.
    In the silence of the night, fate was rewritten,
    For in dreams, belonging is always forgiven.

    Forsaken dreams lingered in the shadows,
    Casting ancient spells to find lost treasures.
    Forgotten mysteries carried the weight of unrealised desires,
    Although beneath the sorrow, a quiet strength stirred,
    Yearning for light once more.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Dead Dreams

    Dead Dreams

    Dead dreams haunted
    the hollow realm,
    where forgotten hopes withered
    beneath a sky
    of perpetual dusk.

    Once, this place had been
    crowded with life,
    with hope,
    with the vibrant pulse of chance.
    But those days were long gone,
    and now the only inhabitants
    were ghosts
    of forgotten desires.

    Regret lingered
    as sharp and suffocating as smoke,
    tainting everything
    it touched.

    Dead dreams lingered
    in the corners,
    hiding in the cracks of walls,
    in the dust that coated
    every room.

    The house was falling apart,
    its bones creaking
    under the strain of time.

    The windows were broken,
    the doors hanging loose
    on their hinges,
    and yet something remained—
    a presence, invisible,
    undeniable,
    watched from the shadows.

    Dead dreams whispered
    through the air,
    soft voices,
    insistent.

    They spoke
    of what could have been,
    of paths not taken,
    of futures lost.

    Their words wound
    through the halls,
    pulling deeper
    into the heart
    of decay.

    The walls seemed to close in,
    the rooms growing smaller,
    more suffocating.

    The air was thick with dust,
    with the weight
    of years.

    Dead dreams never indeed die;
    they fade,
    becoming one with shadows,
    with silence.

    The house would stand forever,
    a monument
    to what was lost,
    to what could never
    be reclaimed.

    In the end,
    it would claim all,
    just as it had claimed
    those who came before.

    There was no escape
    from the dead dreams.

    They lingered on
    long afterlife
    had left.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Dreadful Dreams

    Dreadful Dreams

    Dreadful dreams in darkness brewed,
    The world outside in silence stewed.
    A chill hung thick as whispers weaved,
    Through hollow halls, where none believed.

    A castle loomed, its walls decayed,
    Where time had stopped and light delayed.
    Through labyrinths that none had known,
    They wandered there, each one alone.

    Figures rose from meadows like thorns,
    With eyes that bled and voices steeped,
    In sorrows long since left unsaid,
    Now, pulling dreamers to the dead.

    Dreadful dreams, where shadows crept,
    Beneath their lids, no restful sleep.
    The night grew cold, the visions swayed,
    In twisted forms, the mind was betrayed.

    No way to flee, no path to run,
    For night devoured every sun.
    The walls grew impenetrable, the air was poison,
    And trapped everyone in an endless prison.

    In the silence, whispers of fright,
    Haunted souls wander, lost from sight.
    Each gust a toil, each step a plight,
    As darkness consumed every fading light.

    Dreadful dreams, where mirrors cracked,
    And whispers from the void slammed.
    A thousand clouds lost in space,
    All seeking what they couldn’t chase.

    Souls entwined with endless fear,
    Never to wake, forever near.
    The moon, once full, was now cracked and pale,
    Its silver light began to fail.

    And as the fading shades crept,
    The dreamers into silence wept.
    The night consumed all hopes and screams,
    And left them bound to dreadful dreams.

    Dreadful dreams wandered like shades of night,
    Whispered softly beneath dark skies.
    Each dwelling became a fearsome sight,
    As shadows moved in the dimming light.

    Desires entwined with seizing dread,
    Wandering everywhere, but hope had fled.
    Each secret carried tales of woe,
    As spectres flickered, fast and slow.

    In the gloom, no spark remained,
    No bright memory could have been preserved.
    The dreamers sought the light once more,
    But shadows beckoned from the shore.

    Dreadful dreams chased every fleeting glow,
    Finding themselves in depths below.
    With every instant, the darkness grew,
    A truth obscured, a world askew.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Silent Lamentations

    Silent Lamentations

    Silent lamentations pleaded the night sky,
    Once, no hope could have been secured in the valley of hollowness and death.
    Lurking beneath the horizon, the stars complied with each illusion,
    Far away from the trees of wisdom and consciousness.

    In this forsaken realm where darkness swallowed all the light,
    The land lay silently barren, touched by neither dawn nor night.
    The moon, a waning spectre in the vault of gloom,
    Drifted above ancient ruins, where stillness was taken for granted.

    Amidst the skeletal remains of what once was alive,
    The whispers of despair through the cold wind contrived.
    Every rustle of the leaves, every sigh of the wind,
    Recounted forgotten tales and unfulfilled pleas.

    The shadows stretched beyond, their shapes entangled with the mist,
    Draping in the memories of those who still were resilient.
    Their voices mirrored faintly, like relics of a dream,
    Lost in the chasm where no hope dared to gleam.

    In this valley of despair where time itself was motionless,
    The night sky’s silent lamentations fell gently, a reflection of a frigid blizzard.
    Stars that once were loyal guides through the darkened night
    With time, they became spectral remnants swallowed by the blight.

    In this void of silent cries, no delight could have been found,
    An eerie trance of glooms cast no consoling sound.
    Archaic trees, gnarled and twisted, stood as silent guardians of woe,
    Their branches narrated fairytales of sorrow and decay that only the dark could have known.

    Beneath this veil of endless night and desolate atmosphere,
    Longings were but a distant memory, lost in infinite despair.
    In the senseless embrace of the abyss where dimness lay in wait,
    The night sky grieved for dreams that could never have been escaped,
    Forgotten tales and unfulfilled supplications.
    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 Annihilated Dreams

    The Annihilated Dreams

    The annihilated dreams dwelled in the realm of betrayal and deception,
    Where hope and sorrow had intertwined and bided,
    The night was thick with spectral dread,
    A night sky where the lost were spread.

    The dreams, once vibrant, now lay broken,
    In the silence, their voices were unspoken,
    Their fragments scattered on the frigid soil,
    Vestiges of what had been before.

    The clock ticked on with a mournful sound,
    In this realm where despair was bound,
    The instants moved slowly, the hours dragged,
    Each minute draped in a ghostly shroud ragged.

    The walls, adorned with faded scenes,
    Of fractured hopes and broken dreams,
    Bore witness to the endless plight,
    Of souls who had lost their way in the night.

    The bed, once soft, now cold and bare,
    Was where the restless spirits stared,
    Their eyes wide open lost in fright,
    As they wandered through the endless night.

    The mirror’s shards reflected the pain,
    A thousand tears, a thousand stains,
    Each piece a glimpse of sorrow’s grip,
    A tale of dreams that could not slip.

    The night descended with a mantle of grey,
    The ghosts of dreams refused to sway,
    They lingered in the darkened room,
    A remembrance of sorrow’s gloom.

    In this realm of endless night,
    Where annihilated dreams had lost their fight,
    The echoes of despair were clear,
    In the silence, they drew near.

    In this forsaken land of deep shadows,
    Where endless nights denied sleep,
    The whispers of the fallen dreams,
    Intertwined with silent screams.

    In the corners, darkness loomed,
    Echoes of despair, they bloomed,
    Phantom voices softly sighed,
    In the silence, sorrow bided.

    The moon, a silent witness there,
    Cast its glow on souls laid bare,
    The weight of grief, a heavy shroud,
    Covered all, both low and proud.

    In this bleak and haunted space,
    Dreams and hope had lost their grace.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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