Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: feminine darkness

  • Unloved And Still Alive

    Unloved And Still Alive

    Unloved and still alive
    Burning inside like a bursting candle
    Shunned by the stars
    Forsaken by my own fate
    I wandered in my idyllic imagination
    Careless about the consequences of my quest
    So in silence I remained, keeping my stillness and avoiding any apprehension
    I had been cast away from the realm of certitude
    And I had embraced the illusory world of swoon
    Embracing the unknown was my main aim
    Since I lived with the constant suspense of the unpredictability of the events that would unfold before me

    I saw the traces of shame on the walls of a glorious temple
    Remembering that once upon a time, they were covered with the names of those who once enjoyed privileges and gifts
    Although I saw their shadows fading in the void, I knew that their presence was there
    Underneath the oblivious dusty tapestries and carpets, there were the spirits of disgrace
    How long could that secrecy have been hidden?
    It was a question resonating in my mind
    How could it even have been possible to leave such a precious wall so tainted and hideous?

    A crowd of paid names was pasted onto ephemeral history
    Then, years later, it was peeled away, leaving one of the grand palace walls flayed by adhesive and a code of silence
    Names faded away like ethereal legends erased by the wear and tear of time
    Not even the wear and tear of their fake smiles and affected bows could erase what was obvious even to the marvellous works of that now decayed temple
    I saw but I didn’t forget
    Unloved and still alive
    I was an accidental witness to dreadfulness and grotesqueness
    Everything seemed to be so unreal and absurd I couldn’t even admit it as a bare reality and an ugly truth

    The sky was cloudy and the rain fell all over the magical palace with its infernal caves
    The more I walked erratically, the more I felt like I had lost the old version of myself
    I had drunk the poison of my intuitions that were verified by a harsh reality
    I had become inebriated on a potion that had been offered to me just when I didn’t want it
    And although the ghastliness prevailed, so did I
    I cherished my essence of a drama queen and goddess of darkness
    Since I chose to belong to the unseen world of dark shadows and enigmatic secrets

    Although I was unloved by mortals, I was still alive in various shapes like an ethereal creature of an invisible kingdom
    I had recreated myself from dust and ashes
    While the time slipped away like sand in the wind
    For I became what I could never have imagined
    A lost butterfly in an abyss of turmoil and deceit, overflowing my imagination with illusory chimaeras
    I endured a world of wretchedness and cynicism, facing every horror wrought by mortals
    At the very end, there was never an end
    The decay of the perishable world never ceased, but it persisted inexorably
    And I stared at the stars as the only act of salvation for my lonely and broken heart.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Upon The Petals Of Intoxicating Beauty

    Upon The Petals Of Intoxicating Beauty

    Upon the petals of intoxicating beauty, as if it were a marvellous flower, I found my haven of love and dreams. I lost touch with my wisdom and embraced my unconscious desires. Passionate as I was, perpetual flames scorched my heart, where all my most audacious secrets were embalmed.

    The winter storm came suddenly, and it made all my flowers fade to a haze of stardust. Love and dreams rumbled in my heart like thunderbolts. In stupor and wonder, I fell into an eternal slumber, in which I couldn’t suffer or feel despair. Frozen and benumbed, I became a part of a realm beyond time and space.

    Among stars and clouds, I could see the rainbow of my derealization. I was inflamed and frightened by my own trepidations. I attempted to convey my liberty from past chains, as they strove to bring me down into the abyss of misery. What could I have been in other realities I knew not, while I was lost in broken remembrances.

    The frigid breeze unleashed remembrances and released ancient phantoms from my early past. A vortex of emotions stirred inside me, emptying me of all my enigmas. I wished I could understand what was happening in that very moment. Nevertheless, stupor and hallucinations kept me from wisdom and sanity.

    I felt innocent and fierce, although a bitter dread attempted to fill my heart with infinite emptiness and anguish. I celebrated my resentful loneliness as a treasured gift very dear to me. Every feeling overwhelmed me, and I kept freezing. Every cherished devotion made me hide in the most remote haven.

    I started to talk to mirrors even when they were broken. Each mirror whispered words I didn’t wish to utter or hear. I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t remember my past, since I had lost all connection to past ghouls. I couldn’t find out who I was and where I was. None of my questions had ever found their answer.

    Upon the petals of intoxicating beauty, as if it were a poison spell, I found my demise and eternal doom. My fragility induced me to weep, and I screamed into the darkness of the inexhaustible night. My tears engraved every pang upon my face, running down like garnet streams.

    Thorns and brambles wrapped themselves around me delightfully, making me rejoice with euphoria and bliss. In the ecstasy of contrition and mortification, I found my utmost merriment. Lying helpless and disconsolate, I followed the trails of my reveries, hoping in vain to remember my name.

    I dreamed of exquisite flowers and sweet poisons. I fantasised about petals of intoxicating beauty, until dark shadows dragged me into the abyss of obliteration. I might have been cast into a realm of demise, where spirits and underworld creatures offered me festive and joyful torments.

    In dizziness and elation, I was struck by magical starlight and thunder. Upon the petals of intoxicating beauty, as if it were a marvellous flower, I was defeated and cast away. And lost in the labyrinth of my souvenirs, I could no longer distinguish delusional fantasies from my own ruin.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Mirrors And Dreams

    Mirrors And Dreams

    Mirrors and dreams appeared to me as I drank from the inception of the stormy night, where silence curdled into ink, and every word I swallowed appeared as a curse in my blood.

    The moon kissed my shadow, not with clemency but with remembrance. What I lost I buried in decay. What I loved I burned in darkness. Mirrors and dreams were just mere illusions.

    Silent visions visited me in my eternal nightmares as I never awakened from that realm of madness and phantasmagoria. In loneliness and unconsciousness, I wandered into the garden of desires.

    Untruthful chimaeras were my chaperones as I delighted myself in ethereal merriments and beauty. I lived in delusional fantasies as I forgot the feeling of fear.

    I only existed in poems and hymns to share my love and obsessions. Softly, the nocturnal breeze stroked my face, and I could hear a solemn and funereal melody.

    I felt invisible and ethereal, as if no mortal could have been able to perceive my presence. Indeed, I had become a spirit of the darkness; I was the shadow of my soul.

    Although my everlasting passion for the sublime and beauty never left my heart, I felt the aches and pangs of a withered flowered. Seeking stability in my rooted insanity, I had renounced the world of reality forever.

    The heartless fate had decided its decree to condemn me to the underworld and abandon every vestige of my past existence. Surrounded by mirrors and dreams, I surrendered to my hallucinations.

    The wraiths that chased me were the evocations of my terrible memories. They strived to cast a spell on me to constrain me in the dungeon of death and blood. Where no tree and no flower ever saw life.

    No mirror could recall me, no dream dared claim me.
    Elisabetta

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