Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: emotional decay

  • The Mirror Of Memories And Secrets

    The Mirror Of Memories And Secrets

    The mirror of memories and secrets appeared before me, in one of my many dreams that wandered through my long, sleepless and tormented nights. In the darkness of night, in my chamber of solitude and desolation.

    My nocturnal refuge had become my prison,
    from which I could no longer escape. The tall windows, adorned with Gothic ornament and stained glass depicting scenes from a bygone age, stood like walls of glass between me and the outer world—a world I could no longer touch, no longer reach.

    The ancient piano gazed at me in astonishment as I sat absorbed in my thoughts, completely lost in the labyrinth of my visions. I could no longer recognise my own reflection in that great mirror of exquisite and delicate craftsmanship—yet its reflection seemed cast beneath a spell, the origin of which I could not fathom.

    Dressed in a majestic, cumbersome gown of purest white, I could no longer see my reflection in that mirror. It was as though it longed to reveal to me my true image—not the one to which I had grown accustomed. Silence carved deep furrows in my heart, making me understand that utter solitude was my destiny and my dwelling place.

    Engaging in a soliloquy, I hoped to summon spirits that might assist me in my transformation—into a new, intangible entity, ethereal, no longer made of matter. So I searched, with my gaze, for references, for remnants of the past that might help me find direction, but in the end I understood: I stood within a dark and unfamiliar realm, a place that filled me with fear and awe.

    If I had been granted the privilege of a common and ordinary existence—the kind that most mortals, or nearly all, are given with ease—with all its hopes, its chances, and the facilitations that I have never known, perhaps I would not have found myself in that realm of unwholesome madness and aberrant hallucinations that followed me through the shadowed corridors of that castle of illusions and decay, whose walls were soaked in tears, piercing sighs, and the dust of lives long gone.

    The mirror of memories and secrets in truth, was not there to keep me company, but to reveal to me my true essence—my soul, and the image of my heart, defaced and torn apart by pain, torment, disappointment, and betrayal. It was no ordinary mirror; it was a portal to another realm—the world of souls lost in oblivion and in the torpor of death. A world that seemed a deep, infinite abyss, where despair and sorrow, regret and the memory of the dead shone like stars—but stars of a darkened light.

    And in that very world I remained—no longer a prisoner, but a part of that abyss, of that darkness and dimmed light, for my heart had not ceased to beat, yet my soul had ceased to shine.
    Lisa

  • Devoured By My Own Dismay

    Devoured By My Own Dismay

    Devoured by my own dismay
    Crying in the middle of the night
    Feeling the sharp points of the daggers impaling my heart
    Fainted behind my shadow
    Forced to live
    Devoted to death
    Striving for darkness and the underworld

    Devoured by my own regrets
    Chains of anguish that bond me to my death chamber
    Where I hid behind the veil of sorrow and blood
    Like a magnificent statue of sorrow veiling her countenance

    I melt in the haze of the night to become invisible
    I become the night and the solitude
    Just a creature of the underworld
    The realm of destruction and death
    Transformation mutes me in infinite shapes and entities

    Devoured by my own dismay
    I linger in my own fantasies
    Sometimes they are my nightmares and they want to obliterate me
    Sometimes they are my fears and anxieties
    Chaining me to my dungeon of anguish

    Slowly the rain falls over me
    Stroking my face as to accompany me in my garden of loneness
    I surrender to my madness and turmoil
    I have no power anymore
    I lost everything to be left with dust and decay

    My heart is stitched and bleeding
    Buried inside a coffin in the graveyard of memories
    In the cemetery of those I lost permanently

    And time seemed to stop at the very moment my grief began to be alive
    Interrupting my life and slicing me into fragments and pieces of flesh and blood
    To be relegated to a poky fate
    Tucked behind time’s dusty drapes.
    Lisa

  • So It Was A Night

    So It Was A Night

    So it was a night a lonely light where the sky was covered in clouds and all the shades of blue
    surrounded by silent statues whose stares seemed looking at me but in reality, they just didn’t see me. My loneliness was my only dwelling to create another version of myself. I was crying tears of blood, shame and regret. I felt confused, and at the same time, I had the certitude that I would never belong to the world of mortals. I accepted the fact that I never understood and accepted the worldly rules and conventions as I was a creature of my own.

    It was just night when I realised all the decadence of my existence like an ancient statue living off the ancient memories of its previous life without any hesitation and doubt. And so I approached the mirror of my soul where I couldn’t see any image reflected. It was like I was without the soul, and it was because my heart was too broken to be alive. Being always surrounded by beauty and decay I realised my demise. I strived to accept my ephemeral  dimension and abide by being invisible like a small stone in a huge ocean of confusion.

    I knew that every delight and joy did not belong to me, but only sorrow and distress. All I could do was dream. Dreaming and lamenting my miserable life was my delight.  I felt like in a cage, an invisible cage that just made me imperceptible to the sight of everyone. I was just a shadow, a spirit of the night of the terminal darkness where only other ghosts and spirits could perceive my presence. So I was condemned ultimately to a place between dream and death. I was not sure that I was alive. I could not understand since I got lost in the labyrinth of my fate.

    So it was a night, an eternal night. There was no more sunrise or sundown. The sun vanished in the emptiness, and the horizon was so dark that it seemed to be made as an abyss of gloominess. I wondered terminally without finding a refuge of hope and happiness. Tired as I was, and exhausted from my life, I had to face my condition as irreversible and doomed. So it was a night, my eternal night the end of my suffering, and the beginning of the perpetual void. Deprived of light and desire.
    Elisabetta

  • Midnight Thorns

    Midnight Thorns

    Midnight thorns grew for each teardrop that stroked my face
    With a heart full of stitches and pins
    And for each memory, a mask of remembrance grew like a flower of death
    In a golden cage of betrayal and deception, I dwelled in utter solitude
    Faraway from the vulnerable and wicked sight of mortals

    At each instant, my expectations arose under the shape of lifeless trees
    No season and no hour differentiated the realm of midnight thorns
    A persistent aura of doom distinguished this gilded dungeon
    No sun was rising on the horizon
    Only the several moons dared to appear in all their splendour and dark emotionlessness

    My dwelling was a castle made of pure gold and decadence
    Amid an enchanted forest of malicious spirits and magic spells
    From each mirror, an unknown countenance emerged
    As if my reflection shifted with every passing instant

    Mystical fanfares and funeral laments wavered like otherworldly fragments of sorrow
    Echoing within the hollow walls of my golden dungeon
    Elegies without words hovered as mourning tributes to obliterated dreams
    The chandeliers wept waxen tears made of gold
    And all the chambers and hallways trembled beneath imperceptible footsteps

    I strolled in mourning robes, carrying secrets and grief
    I followed the trail of dark shadows, finding no merriment
    I had lost myself and all my hopes were obliterated
    Everything was buried beneath the ashes of my forsaken dreams
    And the shadows had become friends of my own melancholy

    The glooms were the reflection of my own melancholy
    And all the mirrors were portraits watching quietly with their empty eyes
    No sound beckoned my name, and no aid came from the darkness
    There I was surrounded by the heady perfume of ancient roses and antiquity dust
    I ceded to midnight thorns, the venom of demise and drama.
    Elisabetta

  • A Doomed Paradox

    A Doomed Paradox

    A doomed paradox was my trap
    The more I escaped the tighter I was bound
    Each step forward pulled me back
    I tried to chase the wind but it eluded me
    Each decision became a chain wound tighter around me
    To escape meant to be trapped
    For each door opened, another one was shut behind me

    My liberty was slowly being killed by my fate
    The harder I fought against my destiny the worse it approached it
    To unlock the chains I had to stay chained
    I strived to reach for freedom, but it closed in as poisonous ivy wrapped around me
    I attempted to defy the tide, but each wave pushed me closer to the abyss
    I struggled against the void, but each part of me was swallowed by the silence of the vault

    The shadows crept closer to me with their sharp claws around me
    Their gloomy chill tightened around me like a funerary veil
    They led me deeper into a labyrinth of forsaken spirits
    My heart thudded in a deadly cadence as if its hollow pulse belonged to the underworld
    The cruel embrace of despair of the dead wraiths was pulling me underground
    I lost my hopes in reaching for the stars that faded away like faraway candles in a storm
    I had become a prisoner of the eternal night, chained by the very darkness I sought to escape

    There was no beginning or end in this ill-fated paradox
    This doomed paradox became my eternal dungeon
    My refuge had become my prison never to be left
    I lost my wisdom to merit my madness as a prize
    Time left me and every hope of mine was reduced to dust
    I was becoming decadent and dead like a withered flower left to dissolve
    And all I could see was an endless nothingness surrounded by a deafening silence.
    Elisabetta

  • In My Fainted Dreams

    In My Fainted Dreams

    In my fainted dreams made of smoke and spells, I saw my image reflected in the mirror of death. It seemed as if I were a dead shadow made of illusions. My slumber bound me to chains of darkness, and I couldn’t escape from my dungeon of despair.

    In my non-existence, the quietness numbed me with a spell of sorrow. I was born to die alone, in scorn and desolation. My residence was made of teardrops and blood. I wished I could have kept my dreams in my treasure chest, but every time I tried, they would vanish.

    Hence, I began to pretend that I didn’t need to desire or dream. I could have achieved everything I wanted if only my fate could allow me to do it. Nevertheless, solace and bliss were forbidden castles to my decrepit presence, and I could only find myself in an endless requiem.

    Lies were birds of freedom for my heart, and I slumbered as a way of searching for myself. Indeed, I received an invitation from the realm of nothingness, under whose influence my main achievement was only destruction and decay. I was becoming a candle castle collapsing under the tension of an impetuous and merciless wind.

    My past memories were little daggers puncturing my heart incessantly without any compassion. Maybe it was all an endless nightmare conspiring against me but the vivid remembrances were slowly annihilating me each instant of my non-life.

    In my fainted dreams, I lived in grief surrounded by the shadows of my past self. I was not afraid to suffer and mourn days and nights. Time didn’t matter anymore because there was no metamorphosis in me. I perpetually wept like a statue in a cemetery.

    Death and nightmares were all that remained as gifts of the underworld. I surrendered to a quiet acceptance of my irreversible demise. I ceased to dream, embracing my everlasting lamentation. I was fading like incense through a sinister wind.
    Elisabetta

  • 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

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