Tag: eerie landscape

  • The Ravine of Fire

    The Ravine of Fire

    The ravine of fire was a delightful realm of vexation,
    Where flames writhed, ablaze in fervent contemplation.
    Ashes floated like black petals fallen by lost desires,
    Feeding the fire, stoking ancient pyres of lust.

    Ghouls danced in ephemeral flames, wreathed in smoky lace,
    Their countenances twisted a mournful, silent grace.
    Each blazing ember of passion pulsed, a heartbeat in the dark,
    Casting crimson secrets, leaving magical glimmers.

    Old iniquities were set alight by every blaze of obscenities,
    And remembrances were distorted in this feverish feast.
    Grief and sorrow strived to obliterate every dream within this ravine of fire,
    While a haunting dirge carried on the sulfurous breeze.

    Rivers of flame crawled deep through the earth’s cracked veins,
    Licking at scars with lust, basking in charred remnants.
    Beneath the molten tides lay arcane legends lastingly kept,
    Where invisible despair and forfeited fantasies slumbered.

    Bones of a remote past were forged anew,
    Burning bright but hidden from mortal view.
    In this seething realm, regret found its roots,
    In the eternal embrace of a fiery death.

    The sky above, a shroud of sullen grey,
    Held back the dawn, denying night’s decay.
    Time was a prisoner to the ravine’s cruel jest,
    An endless descent into a smouldering rest.

    In the abyss of fire, only darkness and obsession,
    Hope was obliterated, and shadows dictated their decrees.
    A kingdom where the gloomy sky was untouched by morning skies,
    And the stars were extinguished forever.

    The ravine of fire was an infinite maw,
    Consuming fragments of what once was the ordinary certitude.
    Torments blossomed like exquisite blossoms through the mist of smoke,
    As silence tangled with every crevice and choke.

    Gleaming leaves were hovering in agony, both timeless and keen,
    Thorns covered every surface like a cruel and enchanting mesh.
    A sombre choir rose from the tumultuous chasm below,
    Like a chant of despair where no light dared to proceed.

    Crimson rivers wept down as if to mourn,
    For aborted dreams and decayed illusions,
    Condemned to be trapped in this doomed realm,
    Where unaware dreamers were lured by the ravine’s relentless lustre.

    This utopian land was forsaken by all but dread,
    Where phantoms of yesteryear were eternally bound,
    Bound to flames that did not warm but only kill,
    A ravine of fire where everything was swallowed into the shadows and eternal darkness.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Magic Enchantment

    The Magic Enchantment

    The magic enchantment bound dreams and desires for eternity,
    Upon a cloudless night sky with a pale and trembling moon,
    A blanket of stars lay spread in all its splendour.
    Whispers wove through shadows, haunting and forlorn,

    Each luminary was a silent witness to secrets eternally concealed,
    While a gloomy mist rose in veils, gliding slowly in disguise of ghostly shapes,
    Tormented ghouls swirled in the midnight air,
    Bound by threads of fate to linger forever there.

    The trees were dreadfully hollow, and their branches clawed and twisted,
    Compelled into a timeless dance of sorrow and despair,
    While winds brought fragments of lost and forgotten cries,
    With grievous tones being mournfully entangled by the midnight’s snare.

    Shivers ran deep through the hidden secrecies beneath the cold soil,
    As though even stones kept memories of fear,
    Bound within this dusk of dreams and ancient spells,
    Where shadows reigned, and haunting truths were undisclosed.

    The magic enchantment transformed the whole realm of dreams into a garden of stone flowers and thorns.
    Dead leaves became crystal gems, and ponds altered to iced mirrors.
    Shadows and lights danced at the sound of sighs of grief,
    While no mortal silhouette emerged in that surreal realm.

    A soft breeze of melancholy moved through the stone flowers and crystal leaves,
    Leaving nothing but an ethereal glimmer on their shining surfaces.
    Under the sallow cloak of enchantment,
    Everything became frozen as if held in an endless wail, unseen yet perceived.

    A silence steeped in sorrow descended like an eerie and faint brittle glass,
    And the spectral realm lay draped in ancient spells’ silent pelt,
    Where no dawn would rise, nor any sunrise had ever dwelt.
    In this eternal midnight, the dimness fed upon memories of the past.

    Remnants of dreams were recast by the darkness,
    Lifeless blooms whispered tales of love turned to ash,
    And hope was but a withered wraith bound to linger,
    Caught within the spell that destiny would not have severed.

    And though no mortal hand could trace this ghostly realm,
    The wonder of this magic enchantment was bound and will bind all dreams forever.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Bride of Night

    The Bride of Night

    The bride of night hid beneath the veil of an endless night,
    A castle loomed in the dying light,
    Its spires clawing the storm-torn sky,
    Where whispers of forgotten souls still cry.

    The moon, a phantom, pale and weak,
    Hanged in the sky, too cold to speak,
    Its silver gaze fell hard on stone,
    Where shadows gathered, dark and alone.

    The wind it moaned through hollow halls,
    Brushing against the ancient walls,
    Each corner filled with a chilling dread,
    A monument to the long-lost dead.

    Within, a figure roamed the gloom,
    A spectre bound to eternal doom,
    Her eyes, once bright, were hollowed now,
    A crown of sorrow upon her brow.

    She wandered through forgotten rooms,
    Her footsteps were lost in the echoing tombs,
    Searching for a love long passed,
    A memory that time could never cast.

    The candles flickered, faded, and died,
    As shadows danced and serpents lay,
    While silence reigned in its darkest form,
    And dread became the only norm.

    In this castle, time froze still,
    A kingdom lost to an ancient will,
    Where love and hope had long decayed,
    And only shadows in sorrow stayed.

    So here she lingered, bound by fate,
    In this eternal, cursed estate,
    The queen of grief, the bride of night,
    Forever lost in endless blight.

    Her voice, a whisper carried by the wind,
    Calls out for a lover that fate rescinded.
    But the cold, dead halls returned no sound,
    Only silence reigned supreme where grief was crowned.

    The raven watched from its perch on high,
    A witness to the mournful sky,
    While the castle walls decayed and broke,
    As time devoured, all love’s mistakes.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

© Esther Racah 2025. All rights reserved.