Tag: eternal nights

  • The Eerie Mirage

    The Eerie Mirage

    The eerie mirage appeared on a moonlit night,
    An illusion born of darkness and dreams,
    Where reality frayed at the seams,
    Revealing shadows that swirled with fright.

    It shimmered through the midnight mist,
    Dancing figures hid behind dark clouds,
    Elusive shapes in spectral form,
    Moved through the eerie, spectral storm.

    The eerie mirage had glided across the shadowed land,
    A transcendental waltz, both feeble and grand,
    Its ethereal light had cast a spectral glow,
    Disclosing secrets that the night would know.

    Eerie mirages of an era bygone merged with the darkness,
    Shadows wandered,
    Faint apparitions of a vanished time,
    Drifted beneath the obsidian sky.

    Memories of remote realms had merged,
    With the mirage’s haunting allure,
    Phantoms had tilted through the misty haze,
    Lost in a dreamlike, spectral maze.

    The moon’s cold light, a silvery hue,
    Bathed the mirage in an ethereal view,
    A reflection of the past’s embrace,
    In every shimmering, fleeting trace.

    Mysteries of ancient, untold tales,
    Had been dragged by the midnight gales,
    Breathing life into the spectral scene,
    Where illusions had vanished, both delightful and obscene.

    In that eerie mirage, the past had altered,
    With glooms that would never end,
    Wraiths belonging to eternal nights,
    Caught between the dark and light.

    The eerie mirage, a transient ghostly essence,
    Had cast its spell in the realm of death,
    A vision of what could never exist,
    In the haunting depths of arcane dreams.

    As dawn approached, the mirage waned,
    Its spectral shapes, now faint and strained,
    Had remained echoes of its ghastly flight,
    In the stillness of the night.

    The supernatural illusion disappeared,
    As a fading whisper and a distant spell,
    Dwelling only in memory’s misty veil,
    The eerie mirage did prevail.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Torments Of Existence

    Torments Of Existence

    Torments of existence and death,
    Until the last speck of hope had been granted,
    To dreamers and illusioned vainly expecting realms of dreams,
    Underneath a starless night sky occluded by ignominious clouds.

    Despair hid behind shadows of forsaken longings,
    As the cold wind of fate chilled the bones of lonely ghouls,
    In the heart of the infinite darkness, where light dared not tread,
    And only silent screams of forgotten souls would reverberate unheeded.

    The essence of broken promises and shattered aspirations dissipated into the abyss,
    Unseen and unheard with a load of sorrow heavy as lead,
    In the midst of a reality binding and drenching them in perpetual twilight.

    No trace of lost dreams could have been revealed in the dark labyrinth of hunted spirits, Whose only solace lay in the embrace of eternal nights,
    For in this realm, the fragments of dreams merged with the wails of misery,
    Lost into the void.

    Torments of existence within a mournful maze of endless gloom,
    Within the depths of such despair,
    A gleam of defiance struggled to ignite,
    Amid the shadows of a dead heart.

    Every sliver of light strove to pierce through the suffocating dark,
    Until it became a frail memory of sick diseases,
    A weak flame that could not have endured the majestic abyss of emptiness,
    Swallowing every time and space.

    Death and destruction annihilated every hope and dream,
    Leaving only an empty desolation of shattered illusions and lost chimaeras,
    A barren expanse where the echoes of forgotten hopes lingered faintly,
    Relegated to the recesses of nightmares afflicted by the relentless tide of despair.

    In this forsaken domain, murmurs of bygone fantasies and dreams soared unrestrained,
    Hereafter reduced to haunting and obscene obsessions,
    The relentless march of time brought no solace,
    Only a deeper descent into the chasm of hopelessness.

    Anguished cries resonated eternally in an endless symphony of sorrow,
    And amidst the ruins of a world forsaken by light,
    Lonely figures wandered aimlessly, lost in the maze of torment and desolation,
    Spectres of once hopeful dreamers.

    In this realm where the sun dared not shine,
    And the moon’s glow was but a distant memory,
    Hope had become a relic of the past,
    A forgotten treasure buried beneath the weight of endless distress,
    In the presence of such overwhelming darkness.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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