Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: eternal

  • The Embrace Of The Shadows

    The Embrace Of The Shadows

    The embrace of the shadows woke me up
    It was midnight, and I had fallen deep into the ocean of dreams
    Crimson roses had blossomed around me
    I was wandering in the luscious garden of lust

    I had become a creature of the darkness
    I was the bride of an incubus who chased me in my nightmares
    He visited me every eternal night
    Draining me of my blood and soul

    My supernatural existence was entwined with decay and grief
    While my demon claimed me as his devoted servant
    Mesmerised by his enchantment
    I let him bind me in chains

    His poisonous kisses intoxicated me
    I felt bewitched and hypnotised by his presence
    He followed me wherever I went
    Taking the form of a magnificent crow

    I was crying blood while a crown of red roses and thorns was resting upon my hair
    A symbol of my enduring anguish that I cherished with devotion
    My heart was pierced by daggers of passion and torment
    I was bound eternally to my divine master

    I was obsessively enslaved by fervour and pain
    I found endless delight in every pang he inflicted
    For each bleeding wound, I felt an ecstatic pleasure
    The chains around my body made me feel free

    In the embrace of the shadows
    I had become a creature of the darkness
    My dark wings carried me, enticed by the lullabies of nightfall
    Following my beloved ghoul in the wilderness of darkness and oblivion

    I was merrily doomed and I sank deeper into the abyss of forbidden desires
    Conscious I was not anymore and my senses overwhelmed my mind
    I was the darkness, the shadows and the abyss of oblivion
    My dark sovereign had taken complete possession of me
    And I felt a blissful euphoria inside myself
    We were the same creatures
    Made of lust, grief, and ecstatic decay.
    Elisabetta

  • The Tides Of Death

    The Tides Of Death

    The tides of death and despair devour me into their abyss. Intimidated, I let the cold ocean swallow me in its frightening chaos. Humiliation and surrender chained me to the ocean floor; under constraints, I couldn’t escape my doomed fate.

    And I felt nothing, absolutely nothing. So much so that I was devoid of my essence and true self
    In the midst of emptiness, I was the embodiment of decadence and death. Nothing anymore could have hurt me because I was definitely belonging to the realm of demise.

    The tides of death transformed me into a creature of the realm of destruction and nothingness. I was a spirit of the dark abysses and my words were made of absolute silence. Betrayed by my dreams, I realised that I had no hope of staying alive and accepting my end.

    My heart had stopped beating and I was depleted like a withered rose. Nothing could have revived me and so much I strived to hold and cherish my desires, in the desperate endeavour to conquer my feeble spirit. The marine soil trembled under my faint body and opened into a dreadful gorge.

    Terror was the only emotion filling my heart. The distress was so brutal that it tore me apart. All that remained to me was to sing a silent song of desolation and defeat while collapsing under the weight of sorrow. I was all alone in the chasm of darkness and death, and nothing could have saved me.

    The tides of death possessed me and I couldn’t rebel against them. I was like a buried flower, dead before it was supposed to die. No tears rescued me from my deep despair. No slumber could have made me feel better. In that perpetual torpor, I was destined to remain for eternity and beyond.
    Elisabetta

  • Sublime Magnificence

    Sublime Magnificence

    Sublime magnificence drapes the night
    A vision is woven from bright silver stardust
    I wander like a fairy, bathed in moonlight
    A wisp of silver, floating like a ghost in flight

    Mermaids enchanting melodies cast a spell over me
    I’m reborn in a fairy tale realm made of dreams and cotton candy
    The scent of luscious flowers bewitches me to the point that I lose my mind
    Beneath the vast sky made of sapphires and diamonds

    Whispers of agony and solitude are memories that poison my heart
    Nevertheless, I belong to my realm of dreams and fairy tales forever
    Eternity belongs to me and all my dreams have eternal life
    Illusions are my delights and pangs that make me fly and fall continuously

    I feel like an ethereal fairy who belongs to magic and darkness
    Because I’m made of light and darkness
    I’m concealed by my fears
    And shrouded in shadows, where my soul disappears

    My wings are made of phantasmagorias
    And they let me fly so high that I touch the sky
    Through empires of stars, I sail on boundless seas
    Wandering endlessly between dreams and reality

    I belong to a place where nothing is as it seems
    For I am both the tempest and the calm between the beams
    I’m made of sorrow and the sublime
    A blend of shadows and light, transcending time

    Sublime magnificence lingers in the abyss of mystery
    Where shadows conceal secret dreams that are as light as whispers
    I float through the ether, the stars are my lanterns, and the moon my compass
    I belong to my fantastical world where illusions bloom like flowers

    My soul is a garden of dreams
    A place where nothing can truly be tangible
    For I am the magic that swirls in the mist
    The twilight’s siren and the forsaken witch

    In this realm of wonders, I eternally belong
    Forever surrounded by sublime magnificence.
    Elisabetta

  • Weeping My Heart Out

    Weeping My Heart Out

    Weeping my heart out in the abyss of the night
    While dark shadows embrace me beneath the pale moonlight made of cold sorrows
    Teardrops carve my name, descending like rivers of woe
    I drown in the ocean of nightmares and death

    The stars have ceased to weep, after staring at the moon’s indifference
    And the wind whispers all my beloved secrets
    Singing the anguish that I keep in my treasure chest
    In my garden of grief where midnight rose

    Weeping my heart out in the stillness of a silent night
    When silence and sorrow prom together
    Echoing through the hollow halls of my soul
    And leaving imprints of longing and grief

    The dawn doesn’t dare to graze my tear-stained face
    Because I belong to the clasp of perpetual twilight
    I’m my weakness and chaos of catastrophe
    Being myself the most intemperate tragedy

    I’m darkness and night
    I’m an ethereal creature of the eternal darkness
    An extravagant flower glowing in the gloomy wilderness
    I love to disappear in the most remote places of my imagination

    Weeping my heart out, I find myself in a meadow of deception
    Where I cannot discern anymore what is real from what is delusion
    Hence, I surrender to the uncertainty of my overwhelming fate
    Unaware of my future demise

    I want to avoid thinking, for I live solely through my passions
    In a frenzy of madness and lust, I become a new creature
    An ephemeral ghost bound to a doomed destiny
    Floating between ecstasy and oblivion

    I take delight in dancing with the spectres of my forsaken desires
    Their strokes ignite flames upon my pale skin
    The night sky swallows the forbidden nectar of my tears
    While I vanish into the chasm of my own longings

    No sunrise will encounter me and no dusk will mourn me
    For I belong to the stillness of the midnight’s embrace
    As I become a shadow lost in the labyrinth of time
    A withering shade, devoured by the void within me.
    Elisabetta

  • The Dark Vault

    The Dark Vault

    The dark vault of death and desires was the hidden alcove where all the dreams became flowers of death.

    Desires painted the antique wallpaper in red blood, casting a spell on whoever dared to dream in a deadly slumber trapped in those walls.

    No light could have pierced the darkness that ruled that niche, not even the silvery moonlight, so shy to surrender to all that gloominess.

    Far away from every kind of imagination, desires, and dreams were nothing else than a beautiful aspect of death, with the only purpose of obliterating everything.

    No dream would have ever come true; instead, they would manifest the only final aim: the perpetual and endless destruction of all that was pure and magnificent.

    The dark vault was a mysterious crypt that existed only in a chimerical realm where time and space made no sense.

    The walls of this eldritch place were adorned with mirrors of betrayal, their shattered surfaces still gleaming.

    Each fragment reflected only the phantoms of lost expectancies and fractured souls. Every sliver concealed a story of despair, hissing in the silent domain of this dark vault.

    In the heart of this chasm stood a grave of glooms carved from obsidian and veined with crimson ichor.

    A tome rested upon the grave; its pages were inked with the anguish of a thousand forgotten souls.

    To read from this book meant to be bound to the vault forever, chained by the weight of desires turned to ash.

    Sobs crept as if disembodied voices murmured secrets of aggrieved existences. They wove around the corners like the Hydra, promising happiness and pleasure but delivering only torments.

    They unveiled tales of love turned decayed, of corrupted ambitions, of defiled innocence—all reduced to hollow vestiges of what could have existed.

    The darkness surrounded everything as a cruel reminder that no dream could ever flourish in such a place.

    Those naive dreamers who stumbled into this dark vault were ensnared by its grim allure. Their desires, once flamboyant and passionate, were siphoned away, leaving their spirits barren and their forms reduced to statues of cinders.

    These uncautious wanderers remained permanently frozen in agony, outstretching their arms and striving to seize dreams that were lost forever.

    The vault itself seemed like a living creature, feeding on the despair it provoked and expanding its labyrinth routes with each new prey.

    New grotesque chambers unfurled like malignant blooms, adorned with relics of devastated hearts and the skeletal relics of every aborted dream.

    There was no escape in this wicked vault, for it was an eternally cursed and tragic realm—a liminal space that swallowed all, reducing everything to echoes in its mournful symphony.

    The dark vault was the embodiment of the inevitable, where every dream, every desire, every spark of life came to die.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Eternal Mourning

    The Eternal Mourning

    The eternal mourning ruled through the mist,
    Where an eerie chapel stood,
    In barren lands of forgotten names,
    Its windows wept with shattered glass,
    As time drifted by, yet never passed.

    The bell, once vibrant, was now silent and cold,
    But it echoed faintly with lingering souls,
    Who wandered through this hallowed ground,
    In silence where no peace could have been found.

    The graves, untended, cracked and bare,
    Hold names erased by time’s cruel air,
    And ivy crawled like fingers cold,
    Around the stones where death took hold.

    A shadow moved among the tombs,
    A bride in black with eyes like moons,
    Her veil, a shroud of endless grief,
    Her heart was forever without relief.

    She searched for the one she had lost,
    Her love was consumed by death’s harsh frost.
    In this eternal mourning, with every step, the earth sighed low,
    A dirge for those who’ll never know.

    Her tears fell softly on the stone,
    For here she walked, forever alone,
    Bound to this mournful, endless night,
    A ghost within the pale moonlight.

    No prayers will ever reach this land so cursed,
    No love reborn, no life reversed,
    And as she trod this path of sorrow,
    A journey where the sun will never greet tomorrow.

    The chapel whispered of faded vows,
    Of love turned ash beneath the boughs.
    A raven perched on a cross,
    A silent watcher of her loss.

    She lingered where the shadows crept,
    In search of dreams that death will forever keep,
    Eternally bound, her heart enchained,
    A ghost of the dark profaned.

    The roses, once red, became black as night,
    Their petals crushed beneath her flight.
    In endless circles, she will roam,
    This graveyard of her heart, her home.

    The stars were blind, the moon had fled,
    For in this eternal mourning, the living walked with the dead.
    And she, a bride without a groom,
    Wandered still through this eternal gloom.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Rain of Darkness

    Rain of Darkness

    Rain of darkness fell that night, black and thick as tar. It coated the windows, sliding down in slow, oily rivulets, obscuring the world beyond. The streets outside were nothing but shadows, swallowed by the heavy downpour that drowned out all other sounds. The wind howled like a beast in the distance, but its cries were muted, overwhelmed by the suffocating storm.

    Rain of darkness soaked the earth, turning it into a quagmire of mud and decay. Trees bent and creaked under their weight, their branches snapping like brittle bones. The sky above was an endless void, with no stars and no moon to guide the way. Only the relentless black rain, falling in heavy sheets, smothered all in its path. The scent of enigma and decay was melting in the damp evening air, weaving through the tangled shadows of an ancient forest like something dead and forgotten for a long time.

    Rain of darkness filled every inch of solid ground, choking trees and meadows with its oppressive presence as it ran through the forest. Each instant sank into the soggy ground, pulling dreams deeper into the mire. It suffocated the light, leaving only the faintest glimmer of hope trapped beneath the weight of despair. The path ahead was obscured, swallowed by the inky blackness of the storm. Nothing could be heard behind; the rain muffled every mortal trace, and it was still there, still relentless.

    A rain of darkness haunted the woods like a furious ghoul as the night stretched on. There was no shelter there, no safety in the depths of the woods. The storm would never cease, and it became perpetually a predator that would never stop. The rain would fall forever, drowning out the world until there was nothing left but shadows and darkness. And then, even the shadows would fade in the emptiness.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Mirror of Despair

    The Mirror of Despair

    The mirror of despair stood like a monolith,
    A monolith, unmoved, defiant.
    Before that cursed glass, shadows loomed,
    And light would pass, leaving darkness consumed.

    Once it held the grace of life,
    Now, only hollow faces survived.
    The air grew poisonous, a burden to bear,
    A chill that whispered, don’t you dare.

    Cold breath hung in the air, a fleeting mist,
    A ghostly trace that once existed.
    The surface touched, cold as stone,
    Yet deeper still, a soul felt alone.

    The mirror of despair exhaled a sorrow so vast,
    Trapping a soul within the past.
    A scream clawed up, lodged in the throat,
    But all that came was silence’ coat.

    A voice was lost, like fading light,
    Consumed by dread, engulfed by night.
    The reflection showed not just a face,
    But every fear that none would trace.

    Youth decayed, bones turned brittle,
    Skin faded grey, and life became little.
    Colours drained from joy and life,
    Each moment was replaced by endless strife.

    The mirror of despair pulled deeper still,
    Into a world that froze all will.
    A heart, once whole, now torn apart,
    Reflected back in shards of dark.

    Each fragment whispered death’s embrace,
    No warmth, no light, no saving grace.
    Graves appeared, their earth undone,
    And in those pits lay the one.

    A figure frail, devoid of breath,
    Caught in the arms of endless death.
    Turning away was not allowed,
    Something held firm, no escape endowed.

    The pull of doom, a heavy chain,
    Bound this soul to eternal pain.
    The mirror’s depths revealed no end,
    Only endless dread, no hope to mend.

    Shadows closed in, all around,
    A suffocating, endless bond.
    The weight of death felt so near,
    Its breath was so cold, its touch so clear.

    It whispered low, in the ear so slow,
    That all was lost; no light could show.
    Cracks spread wide across the glass,
    Like spiders’ webs that grew en masse.

    Each line it split tore at the soul,
    A mirror now of death’s control.
    And there stood a figure, consumed by dread,
    A living soul among the dead.

    The mirror of despair held a final sigh,
    A grim reflection left to die.
    The hours blurred, the days bled dry,
    Lingering there, without knowing why.

    No future lay beyond the glass,
    Just shadows of a life that passed.
    Each breath became a hollow sound,
    A heart that barely dared to pound.

    Lingering there, devoid of air,
    In endless, hopeless, cold despair.
    No warmth could reach this haunted place,
    No hope could heal what’s been erased.

    A ghost within the glass remained,
    And death, it seemed, forever chained.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Endless Labyrinth

    The Endless Labyrinth

    The endless labyrinth dwelled in a forest, deep and twisted tight,
    A maze lay hidden from the light.
    Its paths wound through eternal night,
    Where echoes whispered of lost fright.

    Each turn and corner led to despair,
    A maze of terror with no hope of repair.
    The trees grew closer, their branches gnawed,
    As shadows swirled around the clawing darkness.

    Lost dreamers wandered within its grip,
    Guided by whispers that would never slip.
    Their pleas for help were swallowed whole,
    By the labyrinth’s heart, where darkness took its toll.

    The walls, adorned with names of the lost,
    Bore witness to a chilling cost.
    Those who ventured, drawn by fate,
    Found their lives sealed by the maze’s gate.

    The endless labyrinth would claim its prize,
    Feeding on the terror in their eyes.
    And those who entered, never to leave,
    Were trapped forever in the dark reprieve.

    No light could pierce the dense and thick fog,
    No sign of longing in this sinister alcove.
    The air grew heavy and full of dread,
    As the dreams entered, their hopes were long dead.

    The labyrinth, a creature of ancient woe,
    Devoured the light, the flames, the glow.
    Its paths were twisted, wicked and cold,
    A monument to fierce nightmares.

    Fragments of life, faint and lost,
    Went astray through the maze’s frost.
    Each cry for help, each mournful plea,
    Merged with the maze’s eternal spree.

    The gardens beyond became a distant dream,
    As the labyrinth swallowed, all that gleamed.
    No exit was found, and no path was clear,
    Just the dark embrace of endless fear.

    In the heart of the maze, time ceased to exist,
    An eternal torment shrouded in mist.
    Endless paths led nowhere near,
    Trapped in a void of despair and fear.

    The endless labyrinth claims its own,
    And leaves the lost to wander alone.
    No escape, no final breath,
    Only the whisper of approaching death.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Eternal Nightfall

    Eternal Nightfall

    Eternal nightfall in a world where shadows long did cling,
    A tale of sorrow began to be chanted.
    Under the cloak of darkness, despair ruled the night,
    A story of fate so cruel and senseless.

    A figure wandered, lost in plight,
    In haunted woods devoid of light.
    Each step was plump, each instant of life a duty,
    An ethereal ghost condemned forevermore.

    The stars cast down their eerie glare,
    On sights once bright, now dulled by dread.
    With every beat, the hearts did weep,
    For dreams that perished in shadows deep.

    The voice of the wind would moan,
    Of hopes that died and were left forsaken.
    No star was left above to guide the way,
    Just endless nights, no break of day.

    In twisted branches, secrets were kept,
    Of promises that fate had swept.
    An existence once vibrant was now a shell,
    A captive in an earthly nightmare.

    Eternal nightfall, no hope to chase, no dawn to see,
    Bound by chains of cruel decree.
    The echoes of a life once known,
    Now lost to time, forever blown.

    In silence cold, the figure wept,
    For all the dreams that were never kept.
    In the abyss where shadows feasted,
    Desires were ensnared, with no hope of being released.

    For in this tale of sorrow’s thread,
    All light had fled, and all joy was dead.
    So many victims of a fate so grim,
    No chance to fight, no hope within.

    Hence, the end of a tragic lore was determined,
    Once darkness reigned until the end of time.
    In the nothingness most profound, only fragments remained,
    No hope to live, no will to strive.

    In a realm of eternal sorrow and grief,
    Phantoms wept their weakness and frailty.
    No rescue arrived, no hope in sight,
    Only tears upon their hollow facades.

    Eternal nightfall, when the days were shadows and nights were dread,
    A world where even hope had fled.
    The trees whispered of doom and death,
    Their branches formed a sombre wreath.

    Desperate entities wandered through fog and mire,
    Dragging through the remnants of a pyre.
    The remembrance of a life once bright,
    Now completely swallowed by an eternal night.

    Memories of delight, now decayed,
    In the recesses of betrayed truths,
    Broken and erased dreams,
    A cruel fate with no redeeming seams.

    Haunted gazes envisioned ghouls by chance,
    In a cruel and mocking trance.
    They taunted with their spectral glee,
    Reminders of what could not be.

    The stars above had once been guides so clearly,
    Now distant, heartless, and filled with fear.
    Their light, a dagger to the heart,
    A cruel reminder, worlds apart.

    Eternal nightfall, each heartbeat was a painful toll,
    A bell that rang for a tortured soul.
    The silence screamed in endless waves,
    Echoing through forgotten graves.

    No voices came to soothe the night,
    No comfort for the endless plight.
    The shadows whispered tales of doom,
    Of lives confined to eternal gloom.

    In this world of sorrow, bleak and vast,
    The invisible hope was a long outcast.
    No light to pierce the suffocating haze,
    No dawn to break the endless daze.

    The ghost knelt in a silent plea,
    To force dark to misery.
    With nothing left, no strength to fight,
    Embracing the eternal night.

    Being this tale a cruel design,
    No threads of fate would intertwine.
    The end was near, a gust away,
    No expectancy to see another day.

    Eternal nightfall, in shadows profound, a final sigh,
    A soul surrendered a whispered cry.
    In the darkness, it forever lay,
    No desire to live, no light to stay.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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