The magic foggy night became my night of dreams and fantastical visions. A bright, cloudy full moon stirred delightful emotions in my heart, cherishing a marvellous melancholy and sordid dismay. My attention was astonished by the sight of a stack of weathered antique books illuminated by a flamboyant candle beside a shining brass armillary sphere. The magic foggy night didn’t reveal its secrets, so I tried to talk to an esoteric book with celestial motifs, asking questions about that mysterious wisdom I was not supposed to know. As I proceeded in my questionable quest, I caught sight of a glowing glass lantern, while a solitary black raven perched on the weathered stone balcony railing amid climbing ivy. In solitude, I was resolute enough to disclose every aspect of my bizarre fate, which never failed to surprise me. As long as the magic foggy night made my imagination more unpredictable and hectic, it caused me to lose my ability to be comforted by my slumbering rest. Many doubts crossed my mind uncomfortably as I gasped uneasily whenever I realised that all I was glimpsing was a pristine daydream. It seemed that beauty was an ephemeral manifestation of my evanescent dreams. For too long I let my expectations fall into the abyss of decay, and in vain I waited for an impetuous storm to invite me into another realm. Nevertheless, the blemishes in my heart became engraved truths, which were too harsh to endure as I became more aware of the desolation of my existence. The magic foggy night had made me acquainted with nocturnal creatures and forbidden knowledge at the sight of splendour and magnificence. Alas, so abruptly time had passed, and oblivion claimed all those treasures, which hitherto had been my cherished belongings. Therefore, my flamboyant candle with the shining brass armillary sphere and weathered antique occult books together with the glowing glass lantern faded away into the void of the gloomy night. The solitary black raven flew high up into the sky until it lay beside the glistering stars. All that remained to be seen was the withered ivy and some relics of my whispers of despair. The magic foggy night had been just an illusion; a dream that didn’t accompany me for as long as I wished. The night’s deception was but an evanescence, vanishing into the darkness and leaving behind nothing but the bitter remembrance of a resplendence that had never truly been mine.
Elisabetta Esther
Tag: dreams and illusions
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The Magic Foggy Night
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Lonely Silence
Lonely silence in an empty space where there was no place for dreams and illusions. Tears were not allowed anymore since the night when delusions ruled the realm of emotions.
Nothing could have been better than losing hope because it would have avoided the waves of anguish of destroying the beloved castle of expectations.
Waiting was an endless torture, silent but perpetually tormenting the process of self-adulation. Lonely silence remained the only faithful refuge and loyal companion for the rest of an arid existence.
Suddenly, the night conspired with the ruler of nightmares to ensure that distress and emptiness were constantly present even during the desired slumber.
The bells of scorn welcomed the new dreamers, wanderers of the fantastic garden of dreams and illusions. No one could guess what was expected behind the veil of oblivion but only an abyss of darkness.
Solitude and silence reigned supreme, surrounding the eternal infinity. A lonely silence was all that remained after the storm of sorrow, and fear annihilated everything.
A poisonous slumber entranced the unaware spirits and vagabonds without any dwelling.
The sound of struggles echoed faintly, swallowed by the void, leaving no trace of their existence.The night sky was heavy with forgotten stars, and even the winds surrendered to despair. The moon, veiled in shadows, refused to shine upon the desolate lands, where time itself seemed to falter, hindered by the weight of sorrow.
In this forsaken realm, no light dared to shine, and no heart dared to dream again. Each instant only led deeper into the abyss, where memories twisted into haunting phantoms, mocking the once cherished dreams.
The arcane fate was invisible, and the lure of despair was undeniable, enticing all who wandered into its unforgiving embrace. And a lonely silence was the only entity that survived as an inextinguishable flame of anguish.
A flame of sorrow and despair that gleamed weakly and persistently, casting faint shadows on the remnants of shattered hopes. It burned not to illuminate but to consume every last vestige of longing.
The world, now a graveyard of forsaken ideals, bowed to its eternal anathema. Nothing stirred, save for the ceaseless murmur of time slipping away, unnoticed, uncared for.
Within this boundless void, the lonely silence persisted, its flame feeding on the very essence of sorrow, an immortal witness to the final extinction of hope.
Esther Elizabeth Racah