Tag: ethereal light

  • Sparkles Of Spell And Starlight

    Sparkles Of Spell And Starlight

    Sparkles of spell and starlight rained over me in my luscious garden of roses and bones. The shining stars were celebrating a feast in the voluptuous night sky.

    I fell in love with the glistening starlight and the sublime scent of my roses. I could taste the bitterness of melancholy in every drop of enchantment I was able to sip quietly in my secret refuge.

    Locked and invisible to mortal gaze, I could freely talk to mirrors and ask questions to the wind. In the dark, gloomy night sky, I could glimpse sparkling gems casting glares across the clouds.

    Nonetheless, I carried the burden of my tragedy, unaware of what love truly meant. I felt protected in my intimate garden of lust and forbidden desires, where I fantasised about watery blossoms and sharp thorns.

    The mesmerising night was celebrated by the stars and the moon, which moaned with pleasure and surprise. I dreamt of extravagant flowers blooming like arcane mysteries.

    Awakened and dizzied, I relied on my derealization, and I could perceive all the things, which couldn’t be perceived by ordinary mortals. I have seen degradation and decay creep into magnificent works of art in a silent, subtle way.

    I was made of chaos and starlight. I became the lover of my cosmic dreams, which accompanied me to bewitching forests and labyrinths of perdition. I had embraced my doom and my oblivion.

    Not far away, I could hear the ocean’s shore stuffed with broken seashells and withered rose petals. A salty breeze overwhelmed me by making me remember sugarcoated lies and bitter betrayals.

    My heart beat fast like a comet star of fire and ice. I had become the queen of the night and darkness, and I followed the rules of madness and frenzy. I enjoyed inflicting poisonous distress on mortal souls.

    Sparkles of spell and starlight unleashed free in my ludicrous fantasies during a winter midnight in my secret garden of dead trees and faded blooms. I felt the discomfort of my mystic mentalism since I had seen much more of what I wanted to know.

    I leaned against the stone wall of my gloomy dwelling. I had finally seen every single circumstance that I had imagined clearly in my previous dreams. I wished I were wrong and I wished to become silly like those lost creatures wandering in search of a phoney love.

    And there I was, waiting for the moon to rise again in the valley of crystal pebbles and alluring pale roses. I shunned the exquisite appetites of passion that had destroyed me in my past existence.

    No mirror could ever hurt me any longer, at that very moment of awakening and awareness. I sparkled like a shining star among bones and candles. No ghouls could ever have hurt me now that I transformed into an imperturbable glimmer of starlight.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Among Heartbeats And Sighs

    Among Heartbeats And Sighs

    Among heartbeats and sighs, I passed my long summer nights, while dew from the flowers wetted my skin. Purity and lust blended, luring me to the garden of the forbidden desires.

    The wind carried the exquisite poison of my flowers to my lips, awakening my body. I was mesmerised and enchanted with the phantom beauty of my own descent.

    I dreamed of marvellous roses sumptuously stroking my body, leaving me in ecstatic bliss. I grabbed and bit the fruits of delirium and madness ready to satisfy my greed.

    Desire and avarice were my startling cravings, which made my heart beat again and again like a source of power. I was dominated by my passions that monopolised all my attention.

    I fell into the trap of my mistakes and cried out all my pangs as if my teardrops could have erased all that dismay. I kept a multitude of longings in my secret treasure chest, which I sealed with tears and blood.

    A gloomy cloud of fear and disillusion enveloped me threateningly, deterring me from staring at the luminaries shining bright in the dark blue firmament.

    I was conquered like prey by my most wicked impulses, which were conducting me to the brink of madness. I couldn’t find peace anymore in my slumber since evil ghouls were keeping me eternally awake.

    Demise would have been the portal of my liberation, and instead, I was playing with ghosts and magical roses. I didn’t want to accept the truth, I desired to pretend that everything was perfectly terrible.

    The silver moon gleamed upon me pouring its ethereal light over my garden of woe and sorrow. And among heartbeats and sighs, I remained silent and listened to the whispers of the nocturnal breeze.

    I could scent the taste of poison and blood on my red lips. I felt a burden in my chest burning like an everlasting flame. I wished fervently to be a free butterfly flying over enchanted flowers. I wished intensely to be a free bird, soaring high amidst clouds and stars.

    A spell was cast over me, binding my heart to invisible phantoms. Desires had ensnared me in their vicious frolic, melting my heart into a lake of fire and ice. Therefore, I became a creature of that realm of shadows and darkness.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • 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

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