Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: eternal sleep

  • Trapped By My Dreams

    Trapped By My Dreams

    Trapped by my dreams, I was living exclusively in my eternal slumber
    From which I could not be awakened anymore
    Enchanting siren melodies and terrifying cries bewitched my heart
    The perpetual candles burning close to my bedside had the scent of deception

    I was no longer frightened by life and society
    I felt like the most free and ethereal creature in the universe
    And I ventured to remote islands of phantasmagoria
    Thunders of insanity crashed through my heart

    It seemed that everything was shaking, and a roar erupted
    A fierce and wild cry shattered the stillness of my fantasy
    The sky split open with flashes of burning glare
    As if the universe itself was coercing me to succumb to its chaotic will

    The destruction began its monumental obliteration of all my desires
    I could not cry or scream, for I had become silent
    I was like a hollow vessel lost in its fate while caught in a storm’s violent embrace
    My heart, which once burned with ardent passion, was now a feeble flame twinkling like a dying blaze

    I found myself wandering in the graveyard of my dreams
    My heart was bleeding for all the anguish and grief that filled it
    I got lost among the fragments of my shattered illusions
    While hovering through the ruins of my beliefs and loves

    I remained besieged by the ghosts of my fears in the company of bleeding roses
    I had lost all my beloved treasures, and all that remained to me was just dust of decay
    Condemned to be devoured by the infinite nothingness
    I could not see any of my hallucinations

    I could not hear any of the enchanting whispers that the wind used to bring to me as a messenger
    Forced to be enslaved to death and obliteration
    I was no longer trapped by my dreams
    And I dwelled in an unending state of sorrow.
    Elisabetta

  • The Realm Of Crimson Roses

    The Realm Of Crimson Roses

    The realm of crimson roses was my treasure
    The secret haven of my desires for extravagant dreams
    The sweet and bewitching scent of the crimson roses drugged me
    It was like I drank the poison of oblivion for the very first time
    And I forgot my essence, bleeding my heart out

    I had visions and hallucinations like I was in an eternal sleep
    I saw beauty and magnificence in every corner of the castle of dreams
    Crying and smiling, I’ve finally found infinite delight in my abyss of anguish
    No pang could frighten me anymore because I was free
    Like a bird flying so high, it could touch the sky

    I belonged to the realm of crimson roses, and my heart was bound to it
    Through invisible chains made of love and death
    No slumber was necessary anymore because I was in a perpetual state of stupor
    Enchanted by a wicked spell cast over me, I could no longer abandon my state of captivity
    I was languidly mesmerised

    I surrendered to a throne of nightmares and dread
    It was made of crimson roses and adorned with long and sharp thorns
    So pointed were their punches pierced my heart
    Making me bleed until I became an ethereal creature of the night
    The pain freed me from fears and insecurities
    And I had not anymore a material body
    After all, I never lived in reality because I was born in the realm of nightmares and madness

    I knew not whether I dreamt or waked
    So dazed was my mind, I could not divine between vision and verity
    The realm of crimson roses could have been a spectre of my imagination
    Enchanting me like a nocturnal lullaby
    It suited my senses and hypnotised my heart
    A fleeting Utopia, born to wither with the dawn.
    Elisabetta

  • The Wraiths Of The Beyond

    The Wraiths Of The Beyond

    The wraiths of the beyond,
    In realms far away from the waking thought,
    Where spirits of the past are caught,
    A silent wail, a mournful cry,
    Reverberates through the midnight sky.

    The moon casts down a silver tear,
    Upon a world entwined in fear,
    Where restless souls in shadows wade,
    And memories of the living fade.

    In ghostly halls of ancient stone,
    Where whispers chill every chamber and throne,
    The spectral wraiths begin their dance,
    In macabre, hypnotic trance.

    Their forms, ethereal, shift and sway,
    In rhythms that the dark obeys,
    With eyes like voids, they seek the light,
    After they fled from their eternal night.

    Through mazes of lost despair,
    They glide upon the aether unfair,
    Each step a pulse of silent dread,
    A reminder of a nameless dead.

    An echo from the abyss of gloom,
    Where time forgets to thread its loom,
    Resounds through hollows cold and vast,
    A remnant of a tragic past.

    Their laments rise in eerie song,
    A dirge of all that went so wrong,
    Of hopes that crumbled into dust,
    Of dreams that shattered into rust.

    In their mournful, haunting wail,
    A hidden enigma is concealed,
    A glimpse of what awaits the stars all,
    Beyond the mortal curtain’s fall.

    For death is but a passageway,
    To realms where shadows hold their sway,
    And in the darkness, truths are found,
    Where light has never touched the ground.

    The wraiths return to shadows deep,
    To fade into eternal sleep,
    But still, their shadow lingers near,
    A haunting touch of spectral fear.

    And as the sun begins to rise,
    The darkness whispers its goodbyes,
    Yet, in the heart, an echo stays,
    A ghostly whisper through the days.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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