Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: ephemeral

  • Among Shadows And Monsters

    Among Shadows And Monsters

    Among shadows and monsters, I was left to hover
    Merciless was the despair inside my broken heart, since misery ruled my life, condemning me to wander endlessly. I was left to merciless ghouls haunting me like wicked demons; all of them reminded me of the past I’ve forever tried to flee.

    Time twisted around me like a serpent, devouring every trace of the glow of a dream, while I wandered among whispers and sighs of all those aborted dreams of mine that I couldn’t save anymore. It felt as though I were seeing my decay with my eyes and I couldn’t find any redemption or rescue from my fate.

    I was adrift in a sinking boat during a winter night storm, all alone facing death. Nobody would ever give attention to my defeat but only me. In the quiet void, my voice was lost like a resentful wind howling without being heard. And in that very moment, I realised and accepted my loneliness and my doomed fate.

    My solitude and misery became my companions while an infernal stupor obsessed my mind, leading me to folly through its betrayal. I sat on my throne of darkness and became queen of the kingdom of shadows and black roses. I was no longer afraid of ghouls and monsters because I had come to be a creature of the night.

    In the abyss of anguish, I ruled over my fears and obsessions. My madness became my loyal reflection. All my fragilities and insecurities morphed into mirrors, thorns and candlesticks. Although I was among shadows and monsters, my fears no longer possessed me; instead, they carved arcane signs on my skin from which I bled.

    I discovered delight in my pains and built my castle from disdain. In magnificence and death, I married oblivion and I erased my name from the book of living souls. The stillness of eternity waited for me and I vanished into the aether. I was in the shadows and in the wind, in clouds and stars. I was an ephemeral gloom and a fleeting shadow, a transfiguration.
    Elisabetta

  • An Ephemeral Sense of Oblivion

    An Ephemeral Sense of Oblivion

    An ephemeral sense of oblivion descended upon the decadent realm of darkness,
    As an ocean of sorrow and grief dissolved into the dim night sky,
    And stars were obliterated by the obscurity of the infinite void.

    Feeling like a tiny flower in the immensity of nightfall,
    I sensed the vast darkness of the sea claiming my soul,
    Unveiling remembrances as haunting, shadowed visions of my past.

    Feeling no fear, I wandered into the unknown depths of the night,
    My thoughts were ensnared by ghouls of the past,
    Catching glimpses of horrible, ambiguous visions.

    Bleeding teardrops descended from my heart,
    As awkward chaos consumed my mind,
    Drowning me in the vast ocean of memories.

    My sacrifices lay shattered, lost to dust and decay,
    In a slumber, I fell like a flower falling into a lake,
    Unaware of the consequences of my anguish.

    Dreaming about unrealistic expectations,
    Beneath the shadows of darkness, fears and vulnerabilities blossomed in a garden of brutality and chaos,
    Inside a labyrinth woven with twisted roots of dread.

    When the night disclosed secrets, they became venomous and sweet,
    While grotesque truths appeared beyond mirrors of hidden torments,
    Shards of fractured loves were scattered and jagged in the void.

    Through the dark maze, I staggered, each step sinking deeper,
    Each gloom revealed wounds that festered beneath my fragile longings,
    And despair suffocated me.

    A faint light emerged, flickering like a dying flame at the mercy of the winds,
    Pulling me closer with its eerie and unyielding spell,
    With the only promise that I was going to face oblivion’s embrace.

    The stars had vanished after they were swallowed whole by the void,
    Leaving me adrift in the profound ocean of my tacit dreads,
    And finally, the night consumed me entirely.

    An ephemeral sense of oblivion fractured my heart,
    Until I became nothing more than an erased memory,
    Forever lost in the decadent realm of darkness.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Laments in Oblivion

    Laments in Oblivion

    Laments in oblivion faded away like ephemeral tears,
    Becoming crystal gems caught in the night’s dark mirror,
    Where dreams lingered, fragile, on fleeting gusts of wind,
    And relinquished fragments of hope were bound to a silent death eternally.

    Darkness reigned over the realm of light;
    No eternal flame granted lasting life,
    While sorrow bled from noiseless abysses,
    Where forgotten hearts wept in silence and despair.

    The moon’s cruel glow was a mournful gaze,
    Illuminating all that was forsaken, lost in haze.
    Each tear became a star, each sigh a spark,
    Vanishing gently into the infinite dark.

    Spectres swung on a temporal precipice;
    Memories tarnished, turned into mere dusted rhymes.
    Radiant longings became dimmed and pale,
    And, in the chasms of silence, unveiled their tales.

    Ethereal glares and gentle cries of dismay—
    They belonged to the realm of stupor.
    Laments in oblivion were the only vestiges that lasted when remembrances died,
    Tormenting dreams beneath the moonlit skies.

    Dark clouds moved sombre and ominous,
    Crossing skies that never encountered vexation.
    Wanderers hovered among the glooms,
    Guided by phantoms in slumber and reverie.

    Sorrow and delight entwined together,
    In a languor that let the desolate trees weep.
    Lovelorn, broken hearts, once blazing and bright,
    Danced their last waltz in the smothering night.

    Faint glimmers flickered and swiftly withdrew,
    As the night devoured, each spectral hue.
    Memories withered like extinguished flames,
    Leaving only the ash of forgotten names.

    The stars lay imprisoned within the abyss of nothingness,
    Bound by eternity’s sorrowful plight.
    Clinging to remnants of fading light,
    Such glimmers dissolved into shadows in a deathly sleep.

    Laments in oblivion were consumed by the night,
    Hidden in shadows, beyond all light.
    Gone to silence, lost to the night,
    Drifting softly from mortal sight.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • An Ephemeral Idyll

    An Ephemeral Idyll

    An ephemeral idyll in twilight’s veil,
    Where the thorns of desires pierced the night,
    A fleeting glimpse of beauty frail,
    Was lost among the shadows’ lair.

    The roses bloomed with bloodstained hue,
    Their petals fell like crimson rain,
    Dew-kissed thorns that pierced anew,
    As night descended, devouring day.

    A lover’s touch, so ghostly cold,
    Clung to the echoes left behind,
    Their sighs, a tale once brightly told,
    Faded like mist in moonlight’s bind.

    The willows wept by waters dark,
    Their branches sighed with ancient grief,
    The stars above, distant sparks,
    Were dimmed by time, a cruel thief.

    A shattered mirror cast no light,
    Its broken shards, a jagged fate,
    Reflected the face of endless nights,
    The past and the present—disintegrated.

    And in this fictitious realm, where phantoms eerily relished,
    A feast unveiled, both endearing and grim,
    For beauty, fleeting as it was, soon vanished,
    A fading hymn at twilight’s brim.

    A voice called out from realms unknown,
    A murmur laced with sorrow’s heft,
    And though the heart remained a stone,
    It shivered at the hint of death.

    The dawn arrived, too pale, too late,
    To chase away that mournful dream,
    For joy and sorrow shared their fate,
    Entwined within the midnight scheme.

    The petals decayed, the stars were gone,
    The lover’s ghost, now lost to time,
    An idyll lived, then swiftly drawn,
    Into a dusk without a rhyme.

    And in that hour, so cold, so still,
    The roses sighed, then faded away,
    An ephemeral idyll was killed,
    And darkness claimed its final prey.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Evanescent Chimaeras

    Evanescent Chimaeras

    Evanescent chimaeras were fragile,
    Like sand castles destroyed by violent tides,
    In the darkness of the night,
    Beneath a starless night sky.

    Lores of lost longings were engraved,
    On every dead leaf intoxicated by the blizzard.
    Fragments of ancient sorrow lingered,
    Frozen in the gusts of a restless wind.

    Shadows stretched like fractured dreams,
    And the moon hid behind a veil of despair.
    Broken mirrors reflected hollow trees,
    Where ephemeral wraiths appeared and faded.

    Their mournful cries dissolved in silence,
    Carried away to oblivion’s edge.
    Serpentine branches clawed at the void,
    Yearning for passions that they had never known.

    While flowers shuddered in the frozen earth,
    Guarding secrets buried deep and cold.
    The realm was endowed with the burden of grief,
    Each sigh was a flake of a dying flame.

    Evanescent chimaeras became crystal gems,
    Sparkling in the night’s relentless embrace.
    A dance of glares and glooms unfolded to disquiet the nighttime,
    In a subliminal fantasy of folly and beauty.

    Time seemed to wither away,
    And every sigh was a dreadful lamentation.
    The sky, an ink-stained canvas torn asunder,
    Seemed to bleed darkness from unseen wounds.

    Stars were but distant memories, fading,
    Like whispers of lost souls slipping into voids.
    Wails echoed through the cold stillness,
    Like ghostly hymns sung for a dying world.

    Mournful notes wrapped around this realm,
    Magic disintegrations obliterated every little light that remained.
    Phantoms wandered aimlessly through the haze,
    Their translucent forms trembled in the cold.

    They traced forgotten paths along the dusk,
    In search of places that no longer existed.
    In the chasm of that haunted silence,
    Evanescent chimaeras turned to dust once more,
    Scattered by the wind, forever vanished.

    Their fleeting dance was a requiem for the lost,
    An elegy woven into the night’s black shroud.
    And as the reality slowly succumbed to oblivion,
    Only despair and sorrow remained.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Withering Tree

    The Withering Tree

    The Withering Tree
    by Esther Elizabeth Racah

    The withering tree stood bare amidst the wood,
    Its branches once reached for skies long gone.
    Leaves had fallen where they proudly stood,
    Resilience faded with each new dawn.

    Its trunk was gnarled, scarred by time,
    Rooted deep in forsaken earth.
    It had struggled to grasp a fleeting rhyme
    Of seasons past and vanished mirth.

    Winter winds had howled through its limbs,
    Shaking loose the last of pride.
    Each gust was a reminder of forgotten hymns
    In the cold where warmth had died.

    Spring had brought no buds from its bark,
    No whispers of renewal’s grace.
    The withering tree remained stark in the dark,
    A witness to nature’s cruel embrace.

    Summer’s sun had bypassed its boughs,
    Casting shadows on its forlorn frame.
    While life thrived in neighbouring crowds,
    The tree had stood still, devoid of flame.

    Autumn had arrived, but no colours blazed—
    They had long since faded away.
    The withering tree had endured in a sombre daze,
    A symbol of endless, silent decay.

    The ground beneath it had cracked and dried,
    No rain to quench its thirsty roots.
    Silent beneath an empty sky,
    Where once it had borne green shoots.

    Each storm that passed had left no mark;
    Its branches swayed but never bent.
    The tree had remained a hollow arc,
    Its growth and life long spent.

    It stood as a sombre sight,
    A monument to forgotten days.
    Its vibrant leaves had lost their light,
    In a landscape shrouded by decay’s haze.

    As seasons changed and years went by,
    The tree became a ghostly shade.
    Its story whispered to the sky,
    In silence, where it slowly decayed.

    In the forest where it once reigned,
    The withering tree’s memory waned—
    A symbol of time’s relentless strain,
    Where life’s echoes had long been drained.

  • An Ephemeral Life

    An Ephemeral Life

    An ephemeral life had endured the shadows of dread,
    In a garden where roses had once bloomed bright and red.
    Petals, once vivid in sunlight’s warm caress,
    Had withered and crumbled in spectral distress.

    The sun, harsh and unforgiving, had scorched each bloom,
    Turning vibrant splendour into a sombre tomb.
    Moonlight, pale and ghostly, draped the garden’s decay,
    Casting an eerie pallor where the flowers had lain.

    The breeze, once gentle, had grown sharp and cold,
    Whispered secrets of a beauty that death had told.
    In the stillness of twilight, where shadows had crept long,
    The garden lay haunted by a mournful song.

    An ephemeral life of once vibrant blooms, now ghostly and frail,
    Had bowed to the earth, and their colour had grown stale.
    Each flower, a relic of a fleeting moment,
    Had succumbed to darkness and the deafening silence.

    The fountain, now stagnant, held the murky remains
    Of water once clear, now a grave for the chains.
    Its ethereal music had turned into a low groan,
    A dirge for the blossoms that the grave had known.

    The moon’s cold light revealed a macabre scene,
    Where beauty had faded, leaving only the obscene.
    The garden, once alive with intense happiness,
    Had become a crypt in the embrace of night.

    An ephemeral life, in the stillness that lingered, where shadows sank into the abyss,
    The essence of life had yielded to dismiss.
    An evanescent existence, now lost to decay,
    Wandered through the garden where time had slipped away.

    The sculptures, once regal, had frozen in their dismay and despair,
    Silent custodians cloaked in the chill of the air.
    Their features, carved in stone, tattered an expression of anguish,
    Glimpses of the fading archaic dreams and praises.

    An archaic ivy, creeping with tendrils so dark,
    Had embraced the remains of a once glittering spark.
    In the garden’s hushed sighs, the past had seemed to cry,
    As the fleeting delight had faded beneath the sky.
    An ephemeral life of what could no longer be redeemed from the doom of death.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Without Laudable Expectations

    Without Laudable Expectations

    Without Laudable Expectations

    Without laudable expectations
    When bliss overcomes a temporary melancholy
    In a disillusioned numbness of the soul
    No dream can endure so long time
    And everything becomes ephemeral
    Every single expectation is kept in a sacred shed
    Once all the dreams are swallowed by oblivion
    Hollow trees of humiliation stand in front of the ineptitude
    Shallowness wandering towards inertia and madness
    After the senses have fallen into a deep slumber of unconsciousness
    Only dreary expectancies would touch the sadness for just an instant
    An instant of sacred anguish that would eternalize every trembling passion
    And when the darkness pierces every realm
    Every disgrace becomes a blissful solace.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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