Tag: enchantment

  • Bound To A Spell Of Death

    Bound To A Spell Of Death

    Bound to a spell of death
    Condemned to feel the poundage of my grief
    Grief that manifested each day deep inside my heart
    Using memories to pierce my heart and let me languish

    I knew not what I was expecting behind the doorway of my fate
    The uncertainty and fears cloaked me in a dark
    veil
    I couldn’t see anything beyond my sight of discernment
    Since I was a prisoner of my own thoughts

    Bound to a spell of death
    I wandered in the wilderness of my nightmares
    Getting lost so many times that I embraced my disorientation
    Chaos and madness were manifestations of my true self

    My passions set my heart ablaze
    An inextinguishable flame burning in silence
    While the luminaries watched in silence
    I confessed my secret desire, a forbidden desire

    I couldn’t find any delight in my existence
    As if joy itself were always out of reach for me
    And solace was forbidden to a soulless creature like myself
    Since my birth, my body has been pierced by poisoned daggers

    I was bruised and my wounds bled blood and submission
    I came to the edges of the abyss of death
    I saw my life wither and decay to dust
    And I became a part of that underworld

    I felt a serpentine ivy chain me to a throne of decadence
    I was a captive in the dungeon of misery and destruction
    I drank from the goblet of oblivion and I forgot all my memories
    The devastation of my soul was irreversible

    The stars seemed to collapse in the darkness
    While thunders ruled the kingdom of the night sky
    Clouds swirled like ancient ghosts around my head
    And the wind howled secrets no creature could bear the sound

    I sat on my throne as a queen of shadows and decay
    The deafening silence surrounded me
    Hissing spectres crowned my dungeon made of sorrow
    A wicked destiny had cast an enchantment over me that I could no longer break
    I was eternally bound to a spell of death.
    Elisabetta

  • Betrayed By My Own Delusions

    Betrayed By My Own Delusions

    Betrayed by my own delusions
    I imagine being an ethereal fairy in my realm of dreams
    Where no creature could ever perturb my heart
    And I could cry out my soul

    Invane becomes my attempt to remain wise and sane
    Insanity and madness are my new names
    I forget my essence to transform into another myself
    And in this metamorphosis, I’m the ruler of my own kingdom

    Silence is my new favourite language
    I can touch flowers of emotions whose scent bewitches me
    I’m under the enchanting spell that I’ve cast upon myself
    I’m a turmoil of love and death, and no storm can prevent me from my intentions

    Quietude is my favourite to express myself
    I stare at my several reflections in the mirror of disquietude
    And I hide behind the magnificence of my exquisite garden of dreams
    Where I can fantasize about all my envisioned hallucinations

    Because I adore soaking in the fountain of everlasting passions
    As my limitless yearnings for decadence and dissolute emptiness increase at night
    During my delightful slumber
    When I’m betrayed by my own delusions

    Lying in my garden of lush and mesmerizing flowers
    I forget my name and my essence
    And I don’t feel any fear or concern about my fate
    Because I belong to the darkness and oblivion

    The eternal night with starred skies belongs to me
    I become an odd fairy floating freely among her flowers of decay
    I identify myself with decadence and extreme love
    Because I’m insane and a storm of passions

    Melancholy and sadness are my steady companions
    From which I can never separate myself
    And all my blooming flowers wither and fade away
    As soon as I weep for my long-lost innocence

    Betrayed by my own delusions
    I forget myself and I’m left bewildered
    Intoxicated with the poison of my own desires
    Lost in the turmoil of my madness and decadence.
    Elisabetta

  • A Pang In My Heart

    A Pang In My Heart

    A pang in my heart is stabbing me like a dagger
    A wild storm initiated an endless turmoil
    Like a ritual of initiation that crumples my soul
    And the obsessive feelings of burning love

    Astonished to have lost the ability to control my senses
    Like a nocturnal butterfly doomed to be burnt to flame
    When she is attracted by the betrayal of an innocent flame
    Lost in the darkness of the night

    My will is enslaved to the lust of my senses
    A treacherous journey in the midst of a tempest
    Bewildered and bewitched by a wonderful stranger
    Only destiny knows what will occur in the ethereal world of my dreams

    A mesmerising enchantment captivates me to never let me free
    Wandering in total obscurity with no direction
    Feeling a fever of anguishes and hopes
    While an incessant rain is falling over me

    Unlock doors let me think about you
    As I would love to be there at that precise moment close to you
    Even in silence while I cannot stop crying
    Because I would love us to be immortal lovers

    Time passes but not my love for you
    Whose name is still unknown in my heart
    I wish you could have been reading these verses
    But I have the certitude that you will never read them

    Sobbing and sighing I open the window of chaos
    Embracing my inner tumult and apathetically breathing as I write
    Is there a chance of meeting someone by destiny?
    I always wonder about the reasons, but never about the surprises of life

    I lost hope and I dismissed myself to let stupor dismay me
    While I cannot stop thinking about you
    While I cannot stop loving you
    Even if I’m just an anonymous neighbour of yours

    I only treasure the spare and casual moments I had encountered you
    In real life and in my dreams
    And never forget about you
    While a pang in my heart stabs me deeply.
    Elisabetta

  • The Enchantment

    The Enchantment

    The enchantment, a shadowed spell, had been cast beneath the twilight’s dying sigh,
    Where ancient oaks had swayed in the wind like phantoms of the past.
    A chant had echoed through the tangled woods, its cadence dark and deep,
    Awakening spirits have long forgotten from the caverns where they had slept.

    Amidst the stillness of nightfall, murmurs sighed endlessly,
    As unseen eyes had glowed dimly beneath a starless sky.
    The moon had hung low, a sallow face, pale as winter’s bone,
    Illuminating paths of sorrow where the lost souls had roamed alone.

    A mist had coiled through the midnight, cold fingers tracing near,
    Wrapping around the weary hearts that had beat with ascending fear.
    The trees, like crooked figures, had leaned closer to behold,
    The place where time had dissolved away, and every tale was told.

    At the circle’s heart, an altar had stood, adorned in faded lace,
    And there, a book of fateful words had lain bound in death’s embrace.
    With trembling restlessness, the pages had turned, each verse a dreadful sound,
    As secrets had slipped into the void and spun themselves around.

    The ground had begun to shake as shadows took their form,
    Emerging from the depths below, a writhing, ghastly swarm.
    Their voices had spoken in unison, a harmony of dread,
    Recalling all the lives once lived and all the blood once shed.

    Enchantments had surged through every vein, a venom cold and dark,
    Binding all who had ventured there with no hope of turning back.
    The winds had grown sharp, a biting chill that had pierced the very night,
    And overhead, the idylls had burned with a pale, infernal light.

    The spirits had danced in circles wide; their laughter had echoed grimly,
    A dirge that sang of vanished days and all that might have been.
    The ancient oaks had groaned softly as if burdened by despair,
    Their roots, entwined with cursed soil, had held fast in the bewitched air.

    The enchantment had deepened, drawing close, its tendrils ever tight,
    Until the world had grown distant, fading slowly from all sight.
    In the dark, the voices had faded, the spell complete at last,
    And silence had reigned where shadows had fallen upon the haunted past.

    Thus had lain the woods, forever bound by the magic’s cruel decree,
    A place where none could have ventured forth nor ever truly fled.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Night Fantasy

    Night Fantasy

    A night fantasy discloses secrets and enigmas,
    In the darkness of the night,
    When dreams come true.
    Whenever the night falls,
    Longings appear as imperishable lights,
    Faraway from the world of squalid reality.

    Dead leaves fall on the soil made of lush,
    Wonders and splendour attend the display of a starry night.
    A night fantasy is like a monument to beauty and sublime,
    In which time and space no longer rule.

    In this fantastic realm, the roots of cruelty and egotism don’t feed any garden,
    Whose flowers and trees breathe freely the pure essence of love and amusement,
    And only the whispers of eternity remain.

    In this tranquil abode where shadows weave,
    An aura of myths that time can not reclaim,
    The moon’s pale glow caresses the earth,
    And dreams run away like ethereal birds,
    In a sky that knows no boundaries or despair.

    Within this haven, sorrow finds no place,
    Nor does the agony of unfulfilled desires,
    Since each moment is a crystal of delight,
    Caught in the silver web of night’s embrace.
    The gentle winds sing ancient lullabies,
    Stirring the clouds with soft and mystic grace.

    The night’s enchantment knows no end,
    As beauty’s spirit wanders through the dark,
    Disclosing the world’s secrets, sacred heart.
    Each star is a lantern of forgotten lore, Illuminating paths unseen by day’s harsh gaze.

    Beneath this spell, reality itself fades away,
    And only the truth of the night’s fantasy remains,
    Where every heartbeat resounds vanishes in the night’s silent harmony,
    And the dreams wander through obscure realms,
    Embracing the enchantment that forever belongs.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Alchemy Of Darkness

    The Alchemy Of Darkness

    The alchemy of darkness cast its spell
    In ancient castles where shadows dwelled.
    A tale of dark enchantments swelled,
    Through the alchemy of night’s embrace,
    Secrets whimpered, lost in time.

    Once the spark of light in darkness kindled,
    With mystic words and arcane thoughts,
    In cauldrons deep where gloom was brewed,
    Dreams transformed, and darkness grew.

    In cryptic tomes of ages past,
    Lay the spells of shadows cast.
    The alchemy of night’s domain
    Turned light to dark’s refrain.

    Phantoms rose in midnight’s veil,
    Reflecting a whispered tale.
    In the stillness, darkness flourished,
    Where once, the light of day had strived.

    In moonlit chambers, shadows toiled,
    With potions dark and secrets spoiled.
    In every flask, a cloud stirred,
    Turning light into arcane spells.

    The night’s elixir, dark and deep,
    Held secrets that the shadows kept.
    In every drop, a story told
    Of light transformed, of dreams grown cold.

    Under watchful eyes, light faded into night.
    Darkness became an artwork of dismay,
    Transforming light into a twisted luminary.
    Shadiness revealed mysteries, igniting silent frights.

    Gloominess remained the keeper of antique spells and arcane wisdom,
    In a storm of the night, echoes of dread began their silent flight.
    Through alchemy, light had faded,
    Into the dark, its debt repaid.

    In twilight’s grasp, the darkness unfolded,
    A silent world of eerie hue.
    Through alchemy, the night held sway,
    Turning light to shadow’s play.

    The ancient craft, in darkness, bound,
    With every spell, the night was profound.
    In shadows deep, where secrets lay,
    The alchemy of darkness thrived.

    So, in the night when silence screamed,
    Lay the alchemy of haunted dreams.
    In the darkness, truth abided,
    Where light and shadow intertwined and collided.

    The mystic arts had wrought their end,
    In twilight’s realm, where shadows blended.
    The work was never done,
    In the dark where night and light had spun.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Magic Library

    The Magic Library

    The magic library stood in the midst of the forest,
    Where shadows converged and time seemed to merge.
    Books whispered secrets in the dim candlelight,
    Pages turned by themselves in the depth of the night.

    The shelves groaned with volumes bound in dark leather,
    Their titles were elusive, shifting like the weather.
    Silent phantoms glided silently by,
    Their hollow eyes gleamed, no longer alive.

    Each book was a portal to realms far and wide,
    To curses and blessings that destinies guided.
    A tome with gold letters “Fates Intertwined,”
    Its tale was too unsettling for the timid souls.

    A dusty old grimoire with a clasp rusted shut,
    Unlocked with a whisper, a soft, secret cut.
    It spoke of enchantments, of magic once pure,
    Twisted by darkness and shadows that lured.

    A wanderer ventured into this spectral lair,
    Drawn by the stories that whispered of despair.
    A book of forgotten lore was opened,
    And vanished at once, the mystery deepened.

    The magic library under the moonlight,
    A realm of dark and magic tales took flight.
    Wandering aisles, where shadows convened,
    Whispers of secrets in every scene.

    The allure of this magical place,
    Where stories entangled and time had no trace.
    The magic library was wondrous and dreadful,
    It was a portal to lands that spirits found delightful.

    Within its vast halls, secrets long lay,
    Hidden in tomes with covers of decay.
    A volume of prophecies, bound in red,
    Spoke of a future where all hopes were dead.

    Some shadow once dared to decipher its stones,
    Seeking the knowledge that within it shone.
    But the words twisted, morphed, and blurred,
    Until sanity was no longer assured.

    Those who strolled into the magic library went lost and confused,
    By the magic and curses, the volumes were infused.
    Its whispers joined a spectral refrain,
    A cautionary tale of knowledge and pain.

    The magic library with its obscure corners, where shadows loomed thick,
    And ghosts lingered, bound by fate’s cruel trick.
    They sought wisdom, power, and truth,
    But found only madness trapped in their booth.

    The candles flickered, casting an eerie glow,
    On the grimace of those who no longer could show,
    Whether they lived or simply existed,
    In the magic library’s grasp, where time persisted.

    Brave adventurers with hearts full of fire,
    Accessed the spellbinding vault, led by desire.
    They sought out a legend, a tale of gold,
    Of riches and treasures, of secrets untold.

    They opened a chest with arcane symbols,
    Unleashed a force, they could not refrain.
    The shadows engulfed them, wrapped them tight,
    Leaving behind sighs in the pale moonlight.

    The forest grew still, the library suspended,
    Content with the stories of those who had strived.
    For in its dark heart, it harboured a truth:
    Knowledge is power, but often aloof.

    The magic library of days long past,
    Where ghouls were forever cast.
    For the magic it held was both wondrous and dire,
    A balance of wisdom and consuming fire.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Midnight Delight

    Midnight Delight

    Midnight delight of shadows playing games,
    Through the velvet cloak of the night, they sway,
    Whispering trees lie under the moonlight,
    Sharing their haunting secrets with the night.

    Mysterious stars fade in spectral dreams,
    In the hush of darkness, enigmas blossom,
    A feast of midnight delight and abandon,
    Beneath the veil of an ethereal gloom.

    In the abyss of forgotten realms and fantasies,
    Glistening shadows dwell within labyrinths of darkness,
    Lost in the stillness of the night,
    And illuminated only by the silver glow of luminaries.

    Ethereal fragments of love and despair disappear underneath the canopy of the midnight embrace,
    Where shadows and dreams interlace,
    In an eternal dance of illusions and confusion,
    Bound by the whispers of the night’s elusive fusion.

    In the mystical realms where shadows roam,
    Whispers of ancient secrets echo and entwine,
    Entangled in the web of night’s allure,
    Where dreams and truth collide in a cosmic sign.

    In the midst of the dazzling celestial embroidery of stars and moonbeams,
    Lost memories intertwine in an otherworldly prom,
    A clamour of silence and invisible revelry,
    Leading wanderers to realms where enigmas prance.

    Beneath the starlit cloak of midnight’s gaze,
    Illusions dissolve into the abyss of periods past,
    Where each shadow conceals a mysterious story waiting to be revealed,
    In the still embrace of the night’s immensity.

    Whispers of dusk discover the enigmatic wonders of its enchanting spectacle,
    As light and dark sway in a bewitching union,
    In the heart of midnight’s silent daze.

    Midnight delight and delusions become a mirage in the dreams and hallucinations of those who lose themselves in the void of the darkness.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • A Gleaming Enchantment

    A Gleaming Enchantment

    A gleaming enchantment was vanishing into obscurity
    The dawn was wandering in the dark and gloomy silence
    Illusions of the sight disappeared in a solemn duskiness
    In an instant, melancholic silence and awe were hiding in the darkness
    Marvelous and bright blazes became oppressed by sorrow and dismay
    Regret lingered in secret thoughts in the silent dusk
    The faded glimmer of luminaries redeemed silent anguishes
    Obscurity of imagination manifested in the dimness of the night
    Restless and faint, the twilight hid a mysterious dismay
    Deep shadows enshrouded gloomy pleasures
    Grief and oblivion waited patiently, lingering in the shadows of time
    A profound stillness descended over a gloomy abyss amidst anguish
    Delightful and joyful dreams awarded the patience of an infinite expectancy
    In shadows deep, where anguish looms,
    Pain, distress, anxiety, gloom, doom
    A luminous spell was fading into the realm of shadows
    In the twilight’s embrace, whispers of uncertainty lingered, painting the sky with hues of doubt
    Melancholic tempests were secluded in a desolate and lugubrious forest of whims, and dreams vanished like shadows.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • An Unempirical Realm

    An Unempirical Realm

    An unempirical realm
    As a characteristic of nature
    Poetry is an environment of emotions
    It is pretty far from pleonexia
    But extremely close to lavishness
    Wisdom is an ethereal essence
    Created to live a life of bliss and joy
    It is unfathomable and conceivable
    Nature is in everything and nothingness
    Time continues until darkness end
    A day lost in hope is lost forever
    Exhaustion of delight and lust
    An honour of anguish and hopelessness

    An unempirical realm of mystery
    Where the mind is detached and unrestrained
    A lifetime becomes an instant
    Time is unrepeatable
    The world is peaceless
    Recycled wounds are made of illusions
    Grasping the endless void of emotions futilely
    In a universe of solitons and darkness
    The emptiness becomes glorified and celebrated
    A single time of consciousness is enough
    The cosmic waves and oceans are made of ideas
    Everything gets lost in time and forsaken
    Forgotten and eternal worlds

    An unempirical realm of nature
    Enchanted without any meaning
    When every word is denied
    Seeking the beginning
    With rare selfishness and envy
    An intelligible system of life
    A single extraordinary and unknown universe
    Among the several ones
    In acts of worldly senses
    Escaping the sight of light and reality
    The realm of the depths of life
    Nothing to achieve and reach by
    But only the silence of peace

    An unempirical realm
    A landscape of old times
    The egotism of truth and denial
    The void of love and greed
    In search for a space and dimension
    By the inescapable soul enchantment
    With so many fallen dreams and precariousness
    When I perceive the shadows of the stars
    Struggling with every kind of achievement
    A devotion which was lost and recovered
    Holding a vision meant no sympathy
    The essences of life and death are enclosed
    With so many spasms of a new creation.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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