Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: essence

  • 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

  • I Am an Infinite Essence

    I Am an Infinite Essence

    I am an infinite essence, not a face nor a body,
    I am not a nationality nor a religion,
    I am not a temper nor a character,
    I am not my long blond hair nor my skin’s colour.

    I am not the scars etched on my soul,
    Nor the joy that dances in the light,
    I am not the silence of stories untold,
    Or the shadows that stretch in the night.

    I am not the title upon my name,
    Nor the career I chase in the fray,
    I am not the victories or the shame,
    Or the words I’ve spoken that led me astray.

    I am not the eyes that gaze at the sky,
    Nor the hands that reach for the stars,
    I am not the dreams that flutter and fly,
    Or the burdens that cling like invisible bars.

    I am not the laughter that spills from my lips,
    Nor the tears that carve rivers on my cheeks,
    I am not the journey of countless trips,
    Or the wisdom in silence when no one speaks.

    I am not the colours that paint my mind,
    Nor the paths that I’ve wandered alone,
    I am not the future I hope to find,
    Or the echoes of a heart turned to stone.

    I am not defined nor definable,
    I am an infinite essence, like the universe,
    A fabric stitched, forever bold,
    Each thread is a story, a cosmic verse.

    I am the multifaceted gem in the light,
    Reflecting hues of joy and despair,
    A mosaic of shadows, both dark and bright,
    Embracing each layer with the boldness to dare.

    I am the chains of the past that bind,
    However, I rise, unshackled, to embrace the new,
    In every facet, my essence is defined,
    A symphony of being, forever true.

    I am the whisper in the depths of the night,
    The pulse of the earth beneath the grounds,
    I am the spark that ignites the fight,
    The heartbeat of dreams, raw and sweet.

    I am the uniqueness that flows like a stream,
    Unbound by the labels that people assign,
    I am the flicker of hope, a fragile dream,
    A quilt of tales, uniquely mine.

    I am the silence that lingers, a tranquil embrace,
    The truth that transcends all the ways that divide,
    I am not a single reflection but a multifaceted blaze,
    In the vastness of being, I choose to abide.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Unopened Pages

    Unopened Pages

    Beyond the cover, realms await, unseen,
    In every book, a path to what has been.
    However, here prejudice stands, with its labels in the hands,
    Dismissing truths, it barely understands.

    The minds that bind themselves with endless chains,
    Are deaf to stories’ wisdom and knowledge gained.
    They close the book before it’s fully read,
    Content with titles, names, and what’s been said.

    But truth defies the cages they create,
    It bends beyond the lines that separate.
    For every story written holds a key,
    To unlock hearts and set the spirit free.

    To judge an essence by labels is to miss
    The depth of life, the beauty in the abyss.
    The page that holds the answers lies untorn,
    Nevertheless, senses stay closed, and ignorance is born.

    Beneath the ink, shadows twist and creep,
    Murmurs from forgotten worlds sleep.
    The words, like phantoms, haunt each line,
    Begging to be freed from the threads of time.

    More than the surface, deeper should they dive,
    For in those words, the most trustworthy self survives.
    The books unopened hold a thousand skies,
    And in their pages, prejudice defies.

    The label shouldn’t blind crowds from the tale,
    For in the written word, all hearts prevail.
    To open books is more than just a task,
    It frees the soul from every mask.

    And as the pages crackle in the night,
    A ghostly hand beckons toward the light.
    No thought confined, no mortal boxed away,
    For every story lives beyond the fray.
    The truth of existence cannot be simply named,
    It’s written comprehensively, with words that can’t be tamed.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Unveiled Dreams Of The Night

    The Unveiled Dreams Of The Night

    The unveiled dreams of the night,
    In the imperative silence and desolation,
    Gleamed an ephemeral light,
    Enlightening the vast abyss of nothingness.

    Whispered secrets were soft and slight,
    In shadows cast by starlit constellations,
    A firmament of luminaries, stitched tight,
    Against the cold embrace of emptiness.

    Through veils of time, they faded in flight,
    Their fragile forms defied all limitations,
    With wings of thought, they soared in the emptiness,
    Embracing dawn with ethereal grace and soulful tenderness.

    As morning broke, the dreams disappeared,
    Beyond the reach of mortal contemplation,
    Leaving a trace, a spark, a sight,
    A promise of eternal, boundless bliss.

    Through the realm where fantasies ruled,
    And imagination weaved in seamless manifestation,
    The unveiled dreams of the night, as destiny intended,
    Became the guiding stars of desires.

    In the oblivion where longings were lost,
    They ignited passions of bold determination,
    And from the depths where darkness descended,
    They rose a beacon of illumination.

    At every moment, their essence transcended,
    Through cycles of dreams’ transformation,
    In forbidden mazes where time halted,
    In realms untouched by mortal grasp.

    Across the vast expanse of infinite,
    Where dreams intertwined with illusions,
    They painted the canvas of deception and betrayal,
    In shadows cast by the echoes of their past.

    As promises lingered in the void,
    Tales of mystery and wonder were concealed,
    In the chronicles of fate and death,
    Far from every congenial idea.

    Through hallways of forgotten spheres,
    Where shadows weaved webs of forgotten lore,
    Ancient mysteries lingered in their sombre embrace,
    Time’s relentless march erased their trace.

    In the silent embrace of the eternal dimness,
    The unveiled dreams of the night found solace in their plight,
    Guided by stars of flickering brightness,
    Revealing secrets to the wandering souls in darkness.

    Through unknown games of shadows and light,
    Tales of the night thrived in elusive enigmas,
    Etched in the firmament’s infinite height,
    A symphony played by celestial drifters.

    Beneath the gaze of everlasting flames,
    The dreams, like phantoms, danced with fervour,
    Woven into an invisible maze,
    Until they dissolved like tears in the rain.

    Ethereal sparkles illuminated the void; in their ephemeral space,
    In the midst of the eternal dimness that held no trace,
    The unveiled dreams of the night illuminated the void,
    In their ephemeral space.
    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

  • Time Has Slipped Away

    Time Has Slipped Away

    Time has slipped away as fast as pouring rain
    In the dark and sunny sky
    Emptiness and fragility are made in a storm
    There’s sunshine on every side of your nest
    The wind sings through the grass with warm trees
    In snowstorms in winter, I have thrived
    Time has slipped away as fast as pouring rain
    As the world should have a chance to exist
    The sun is bright, always more everywhere
    Rocks of storms hit the morning as it changes
    Not so far
    Life was created before memories
    A loss shall come into every dream
    And nevermore were the birds singing
    In a world that might be born again today
    Time has slipped away as fast as pouring rain
    Raindrops were similar to a breeze sweeping the leaves of summer
    And when autumn will change its essence
    The daytime might not be warm forever
    It shall dwell, but not in this fate
    That does only come to see night again
    in a lost day when memories were born
    Memories become shattered
    whenever tears could have been spent on death,
    Not enough before all happiness was lost
    Even if I never had back my sorrows again
    Time has slipped away as fast as pouring rain
    Like an early spring day of the year
    The time had disappeared
    Whenever the wind and the clouds move toward my eyes
    Every pointless fear is so far beyond me
    My dreams can stand glum but cannot be seen or remembered again
    Before I aim to be alive
    Timeless visions are made of unperceivable illusions and phantasmagorias
    Time has slipped away as fast as pouring rain
    And remarkable beauty resides in true peace
    Whilst a reckless creation is an obscure snare
    Trying to climb on illusory and fierce mirrors
    Which are sliding doors to deceitful opportunities.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Waves Of Darkness

    The Waves Of Darkness

    The waves of darkness
    Crash against the shore
    As I stand here all alone
    The wind whispers in my ears
    And I feel like I’m forsaken
    The sea is vast and wide
    But I’m not frightened to dive
    Into the depths of my soul
    Where the mysteries unfold
    The sun sets on the horizon
    And the stars fail to light up the sky
    Which is an abyss of decrepit wrecks
    Made of anguish and oblivion
    I have never been created as a dream
    The silence has no fear
    In the sky above, all the worlds spin round
    The waves of darkness flow
    To the land where there’s no light
    An empty place to reach.
    This is how one’s dreams begin.
    With hope and delight
    The waves of darkness
    Are silent;
    And I see
    That world has no end.
    I know
    My mind is the sky
    But
    Its essence is a river.
    Nothing ever is the same
    Darkness is like a fire
    The night has gone with my dreams
    And the light runs out,
    Like thunder lingering on the shore
    And darkness is everywhere
    This dream of mine is quiescent.
    Life is considerably hasty and bitter
    There is nothing left to last,
    All those unknown memories have flown for this day
    Like a flood that overwhelms and destroys the universe.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • A Dismal Feast

    A Dismal Feast

    A Dismal Feast

    The insane dismay of the veiled truth
    When everything is shattering under the pressure of the infamous time
    None can claim a beloved treasure
    Except for the cathartic destruction of material essence
    A dismal feast of desires and intuitions
    Slowly, enduring anguish penetrates the wandering souls
    A sublime soft pain tears every spirit into infinite and eternal fragments
    In a perpetual motion that invariably affects the universal peace
    A metaphorical lullaby of bliss and pain awakes all the luminaries
    Inducing an ecstatic joy and an immortal stillness of the unconsciousness.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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