Tag: existential poetry

  • Nightmares And Sorrow

    Nightmares And Sorrow

    Nightmares and sorrow blended in a cloud of illusory bliss in a beautiful and enchanting night of confusion and euphoria. I felt a sense of transience and fragility in my ephemeral existence. Torpor and a desire for amnesia dissolved when madness and absolute sublimity prevailed in their entirety. Lost in the darkness of the night, I began to feel overwhelmed by the immense ocean of life while I was but a frail snowflake, which could have been swallowed by the fantastic void. I had never been able to understand how my heart could be bewildered by a fierce dismay while the nocturnal cold breeze left me feeling drained and listless. Bitter and tragic memories manifested themselves with their unwelcome presence. At least silence could soothe me while the night did increase my anguish, which plunged me into a state of tragic wretchedness, as if my inescapable destiny had decided that dreams could no longer be a privilege of mine. Nightmares and sorrow never left my side and they softly whispered truths to me that I would have liked to bury in the abyss of oblivion. No matter how much I sought to escape that storm of restlessness and melancholy, I always found myself back at the starting point, facing my bitter and cruel anguish. Not even the beauty with which I had surrounded myself had sufficed to save me from that abyss of perdition. And so it was that my dreams were reduced to a heap of decaying rubble that not even the night wind would carry away. Time was racing by like a swollen river, while I stood motionless in a state of torment and contrition, unable to find a way out of that labyrinth of futile anxieties. Lost in the vortex of nightmares and sorrow I let events perpetrate their wickedness. I could never ever forget the day all the dreams of mine fell into abysmal obliteration. There was no longer a sunrise in the eternal realm of darkness and decay.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • A Dismal Obscurity

    A Dismal Obscurity

    A dismal obscurity silently descended over the nighttime in the garden of secret and forbidden desires. Once again, the storm had fulfilled its promise to erase ancient memories and delusional hopes from the realm of fantasies and chimaeras. The nights followed each other like a sequence of fables without any beginning or end. All the flowers withdrew from the tempest’s thunder, leaving soaked soil filled with decay and fragments of burning flames. The bitterness of the magic potions that I had to swallow in my frantic existence turned my heart into a heavy stone to carry through nights of solitude and restlessness. Flares of anguish burst in the nighttime while the stars watched me closely like a bizarre creature, who was unworthy of inhabiting that enchanted place filled with wild eccentricities. The freezing wind was so fiercely cold and violent that I could not remain standing for even a moment, reminding me of my fragility and transience. The more unbearable truths demanded to be revealed the more I shrank from discovering them in the great mirror of dilemmas. No matter how much I wanted to cast off all those painful and demoralising memories, they appeared as menacing shadows wherever I went. A dismal obscurity had cast a spell all over the night and no portal could have conducted me to other surroundings since my fate had decreed that I could never depart from the realm of ill-omened nightmares and indulgent sufferings. The art of suffering had become my delight during those harrowing nights of burning tears. The stupor had not even allowed me a moment to relinquish my role as a dreamer of lost, fragmented dreams. The eternal darkness could have been magnificent each instant that a dismal obscurity had claimed my heart solely for the mere purpose of making me feel in each part of my body the misery of the loss of all my dreams while the stars and the moon mocked me with their looks of contempt.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • In The Labyrinth Of Sighs

    In The Labyrinth Of Sighs

    In the labyrinth of sighs, a place suspended in time and unreachable by human beings, mysterious shadows and riddles lay beneath the crystal starlight that shone brightly over the kingdom of heavenly nightmares. Slowly I tried to find an escape but the more I proceeded the more I found myself at the same point at the very beginning. In vain I studied the opportunities to free myself from that labyrinth, nevertheless, it seemed that there was no chance for me to flee. At each moment a sigh revealed to me a part of the secrets that had been concealed by the clouds of dusk, when the moon could have touched the sleek dark blue surface of the ocean. Ominous shadows manifested their presence around me surrounding me with startling emotions making me hesitate to continue my frenetic quest for freedom. Was all that I needed a quest for the very liberty from an extremely extravagant place claiming my heart in a vehement storm of dismay and longing? As long as I was forced to stay in the labyrinth of sighs I could find myself absorbed in my thoughts between sweet and bitter pleasures while the moon on the horizon re-emerged from the brilliant ocean as if it had been born from the deepest depths. I felt the starlight caressing me softly descending all over me like a rain of delicate petals whose exquisite scent was bewitching but at the same time intimidating me. And however cynical and unscrupulous my cruel fate had been, I could not escape that sense of helplessness and exquisite mourning that had taken root in my heart; while ice-cold tears crept down my face, almost as if to remind me how my misery had become as infinite as the number of stars scattered across the firmament of the dark night. The wind softly whispered painful memories to me just as I had resigned myself to the idea of ​​permanently leaving that place—so deeply hated yet equally yearned for—the labyrinth of sighs and forsaken desires.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • The Wandering Of The Waves

    The Wandering Of The Waves

    The wandering of the waves and the sound of sighs echoing softly through the forest of lost dreams, reminded me of the fleeting nature of my state—lost in labyrinths of desire and anguish. I could not tell whether I was dreaming or awake, given that reality for me had come to consist of fantastic visions and peculiar dreams. And it was as if the past had poured into the present—which, however, was aimed at the future—and this chaos of future expectations and vague memories of the past never abated as the nights went by. I was confused and lost, yet I did not lose heart at all; on the contrary, I chose to seek out arcane symbols and enchanted grimoires to discover something about myself, given that I could not remember who or what I was. Scarlet flowers caught my eye while I was utterly exhausted from my search in the void, and their petals brought me comfort during the long winter nights when the sense of grief never left my side. Long and sombre were the moments when bitter memories carved symbols of pain and anguish into my heart, and I stood there frozen, as if the night’s chill had stripped away my ability to react and move forward on my path of deranged restlessness. And dreams turned into nightmares that tore away every desire for delights and bliss. The ocean in the distance seemed like a safe haven for my soul, yet its vast immensity in the darkness of night unsettled me, seeming to transform into an abyss of obliteration. And so it was that I lost my battle against a part of myself that wanted to forget all the bitterness of the memories vehemently trying to suck me into their vortex of deep sadness. The bells of the ancient abandoned cemetery rang a funeral fanfare for all those dreams of mine that had been carried away by the sudden storm that had taken possession of my kingdom of forbidden and impervious dreams. Even the clouds had grown sorrowful and voiced their dissent with an incessant rain that washed away every fragment of hope I had kept in a crystal box. I felt dazed and intoxicated by the chaotic confusion of that pandemonium. In the end, I had lost everything I had guarded with such devotion, and even my name had been erased from the entire realm—as if I had never existed. The wandering of the waves no longer soothed me since the night of the loss of my annihilated dreams, which turned to dust and ashes. Dismay found its perpetual abode in my heart and never left, and I embraced a dismal and bleak fate in an absolute silence.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • A Dreamy Nighttime

    A Dreamy Nighttime

    A dreamy nighttime resurfaced in my mind as if I were living in that very moment that didn’t last as long as I wished it would. As usual, my flowing dark gown was agitated by the freezing wind while a large white wolf sat next to a black raven perched on the stone pillar with me. From my high stone balcony, I could gaze at a dragon flying in the distant sky, with an embellished archway overlooking a marvellous landscape of a misty valley, dramatic waterfalls, and a sprawling castle complex connected by stone bridges. That was definitely a dreamy nighttime to remember by the light of a warm candlelight, a glowing lantern, and the unperturbed silver light of the moon. My lovely companions could sense all the bitter grief and electrifying fears hidden in my heart no matter how much I claimed that nothing could disturb me. I often asked them about the meaning of existence and the reason why dreams were dissolved by the cynicism and indifference of humankind. Lost in the labyrinth of my thoughts, I let myself be captivated by the enchantment of that realm of beauty and magic, in the hope that I would distract my heart from the anguish that held it entangled in its thorny tendrils. In truth, I was fleeing from myself and from the darkness of the abyss of nightmares that haunted my fitful slumber. Nonetheless, a dreamy nighttime had the power to transform me into a creature of the silent night, inducing me to live a life of starlight and mysticism. In loneliness, I was no longer, absolutely I felt the protection of the fantastic inhabitants of that kingdom of dreamy nighttime. So bright were the luminaries that I felt finally welcomed and included for the very first time in my peculiar reality filled with oddities and delusions. At last, I was allowed to be made of dreams and nightmares, far away from the conventional impediments of humanity. Far away I fled astray, into the endless darkness, where splendid dreams and lugubrious nightmares merged beneath the silver gaze of the moon.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • The Magic Foggy Night

    The Magic Foggy Night

    The magic foggy night became my night of dreams and fantastical visions. A bright, cloudy full moon stirred delightful emotions in my heart, cherishing a marvellous melancholy and sordid dismay. My attention was astonished by the sight of a stack of weathered antique books illuminated by a flamboyant candle beside a shining brass armillary sphere. The magic foggy night didn’t reveal its secrets, so I tried to talk to an esoteric book with celestial motifs, asking questions about that mysterious wisdom I was not supposed to know. As I proceeded in my questionable quest, I caught sight of a glowing glass lantern, while a solitary black raven perched on the weathered stone balcony railing amid climbing ivy. In solitude, I was resolute enough to disclose every aspect of my bizarre fate, which never failed to surprise me. As long as the magic foggy night made my imagination more unpredictable and hectic, it caused me to lose my ability to be comforted by my slumbering rest. Many doubts crossed my mind uncomfortably as I gasped uneasily whenever I realised that all I was glimpsing was a pristine daydream. It seemed that beauty was an ephemeral manifestation of my evanescent dreams. For too long I let my expectations fall into the abyss of decay, and in vain I waited for an impetuous storm to invite me into another realm. Nevertheless, the blemishes in my heart became engraved truths, which were too harsh to endure as I became more aware of the desolation of my existence. The magic foggy night had made me acquainted with nocturnal creatures and forbidden knowledge at the sight of splendour and magnificence. Alas, so abruptly time had passed, and oblivion claimed all those treasures, which hitherto had been my cherished belongings. Therefore, my flamboyant candle with the shining brass armillary sphere and weathered antique occult books together with the glowing glass lantern faded away into the void of the gloomy night. The solitary black raven flew high up into the sky until it lay beside the glistering stars. All that remained to be seen was the withered ivy and some relics of my whispers of despair. The magic foggy night had been just an illusion; a dream that didn’t accompany me for as long as I wished. The night’s deception was but an evanescence, vanishing into the darkness and leaving behind nothing but the bitter remembrance of a resplendence that had never truly been mine.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Emptiness And Oblivion

    Emptiness And Oblivion

    Emptiness and oblivion claimed me as if I had lost all my discernment while wandering in the cold night aimlessly. So little was I acquainted with the mysteries of the night, and the more I proceeded, the more I became bewildered, to the point that there was no wisdom in the precious crystals I had found along my route. Every instant I strove to preserve my fragile dreams that the biting and harsh wind longed to take away from me. My attempt to gather the flowers from my secret garden was in vain since that night when my will started to be bent by the spirits of the darkness. Emptiness and oblivion unexpectedly usurped my realm of arcane enigmas and phantasmagorias. Eerie lullabies attempted to enchant me with their cryptic call but no spell could be cast upon me for I was invulnerable to enchantments. No commitments or vows could tarnish my desire for endless emptiness and oblivion. The mirrors in my abode reflected different images of myself each time I stared at them, as if they scrutinised my soul carefully, like mind readers. Underneath antique frocks, a vintage pocket clock sprang like a living creature of the immortal night showing me an hour that was evermore. Small bronze keys peeked out amidst the chaotic jumble of my enchanted manor. Nothing could be the same anymore. All my attempts to use the bronze keys were fruitless, given that I wasn’t able to discover any lock suitable for their size, but in the end, I didn’t care. All of a sudden everything vanished and I was surrounded by emptiness and oblivion, which had obliterated every treasure and possession of mine. Devastation had accomplished its mission properly and darkness suppressed all the light irradiated by the glimmering stars, which were totally concealed by gloomy clouds. I could no longer make out my former path, and in place of my elegant mansion lay heaps of rubble and fragments of my belongings. The supremacy of emptiness and oblivion was unassailable, in fact, they were my cold-hearted rulers. Nothing could have been altered. Even the stars had lost their authority in the firmament, which had now transmuted into the empire of void.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • A Burning Grief

    A Burning Grief

    A burning grief shone in my heart like an everlasting flame in the middle of the night, when no creature of the magic oak forest dared to sing. An impetuous waft surrounded me like an ineluctable fate plotting behind my back, as the darkness would make me fade from sight. While an eagle-owl was my oracle whispering enigmas and revealing riddles, a tempest cast its sinister gaze on me as an ominous presage. The cloudy sky embellished the night with gloomy hues and wrapped the stars, too fearful to be seen, whilst the moon concealed its countenance behind an immense thunderhead. No impetuous trepidation could have been placed in my heart, at that very moment when I realised that the ghosts of my archaic past had left me in agony for so long a time. Nothing more could have been a reason for delight, once I discovered the pure emptiness of my existence made of dust and decay. Broken vows and erratic dreams departed from my modest dwelling, leaving a trail of withered flowers and oak scent. The most intrinsic essence of my existence was soaked with black tea, mint and vanilla. A burning grief kept its everlasting flame alive like a torch blazing in my heart, never leaving me for eternity. The chimes of an antique longcase clock resounded all over the oak forest, evoking wonder and apprehension. I felt a tremendous distress causing my agony to persist in its overwhelming purpose, and I believed that nothing anymore was really significant enough to influence my peculiar fate now that the darkness had welcomed every dream of mine. Alas, that burning grief not only had conquered my heart but it didn’t hesitate to defeat all my defences. Once again I could be allowed to win my reward for such a monumental sorrow since nightmares enclosed me even more than before.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Lost In The Midst Of Nowhere

    Lost In The Midst Of Nowhere

    Lost in the midst of nowhere with a daze in my heart, I lay upon the decrepit fragments of my memories, overwhelmed by the dismal grief that shrouded my sleepless nights. I tried to continue on my way, but I had no direction, and my wounds made me very fragile. The midnight wind enveloped me, forcing me to seek shelter in a hovel haunted by ghosts of the distant past. I imagined being plunged into perpetual oblivion that kept me from telling what was real and what my imagination created.

    Meanwhile, I could hear all my previous apprehensions crumble like frail crystals shattered in the middle of the gelid night. Nothing mattered anymore since the day I buried all my hopes permanently and sealed my most coveted dreams in a precious box that vanished into the ocean. The only thing I could discern was the echoes of my fears’ screams. All my treasures faded away in the darkness of my nightmares after the most impetuous tempests struck my ephemeral haven made of seashells and sand.

    Dreadful remembrances altered into feral ghouls, which haunted my disquieted slumber perpetually, leaving my heart a desolate garden of withered flowers. In silence, I left that state of obliteration of all my delights without any merriment but only a burning grief. An obscure rain started falling all over me and gloomy clouds surrounded me almost to support me in my exhausting attempt to flee my obstinate fate. No tears could have been enough to express my dismay now that even I had become a creature of that realm of sorrow.

    Sublime was the sight of the night sky before I could gaze at my descent, and after I got lost in the middle of nowhere repeatedly, I abandoned my aim to capture dreams eternally and evermore.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • The Sun Of Dismay

    The Sun Of Dismay

    The Sun of dismay irradiated its glowing rays of light all over me, as if I were not aware enough of my cruel fate. I wish I could have escaped from that hostile destiny, but I was bound to it by an eternal oath.

    My sighs and tears could not arrest that tragic scenario poised to, all of a sudden, dismiss the totality of my most cherished dreams. Not even the nighttime legends and fairy tales could divert my attention.

    The nocturnal echoes of the barn owls and nightjars interrupted my silent contemplation, every time I stared at the moon from my balcony adorned with ancient finds and magical manuscripts.

    Beyond the horizon, I was not able to catch sight of anything else but my dreadful fears that filled my heart with a bitter anguish. And suddenly a freezing wind rose, freezing all the mirrors of my antique mansion.

    The Sun of dismay didn’t appear anymore since the day I had decided to fall in love with my regrets and solitude. Nevertheless, far away, cast away from my memories, an obsolete shadow kept haunting the peaceful realm of my thoughts.

    No candle dared to illuminate the darkness that dwelled in my realm of nightmares and oddities. My reflection in broken mirrors made me perceive that I was an evanescent hologram of my own imagination.

    Was all that real or just a dream? A rocambolesque confusion suddenly struck me like a purely casual event. Surreal was everything I ever dreamed of and mostly the suspense of my bizarre fate.

    My invisibility was my strength and the loneliness swarming around me tempted me to surrender to every hesitation of mine, even when the Sun of dismay persisted in materialising like an unexpected ghost.

    All my wishes vanished and they were replaced by restlessness in the shape of ghouls wandering in the endless labyrinth of my chance, where destiny and randomness became indistinguishable.
    Elisabetta Esther

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