Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: flowers

  • Betrayed By My Own Delusions

    Betrayed By My Own Delusions

    Betrayed by my own delusions
    I imagine being an ethereal fairy in my realm of dreams
    Where no creature could ever perturb my heart
    And I could cry out my soul

    Invane becomes my attempt to remain wise and sane
    Insanity and madness are my new names
    I forget my essence to transform into another myself
    And in this metamorphosis, I’m the ruler of my own kingdom

    Silence is my new favourite language
    I can touch flowers of emotions whose scent bewitches me
    I’m under the enchanting spell that I’ve cast upon myself
    I’m a turmoil of love and death, and no storm can prevent me from my intentions

    Quietude is my favourite to express myself
    I stare at my several reflections in the mirror of disquietude
    And I hide behind the magnificence of my exquisite garden of dreams
    Where I can fantasize about all my envisioned hallucinations

    Because I adore soaking in the fountain of everlasting passions
    As my limitless yearnings for decadence and dissolute emptiness increase at night
    During my delightful slumber
    When I’m betrayed by my own delusions

    Lying in my garden of lush and mesmerizing flowers
    I forget my name and my essence
    And I don’t feel any fear or concern about my fate
    Because I belong to the darkness and oblivion

    The eternal night with starred skies belongs to me
    I become an odd fairy floating freely among her flowers of decay
    I identify myself with decadence and extreme love
    Because I’m insane and a storm of passions

    Melancholy and sadness are my steady companions
    From which I can never separate myself
    And all my blooming flowers wither and fade away
    As soon as I weep for my long-lost innocence

    Betrayed by my own delusions
    I forget myself and I’m left bewildered
    Intoxicated with the poison of my own desires
    Lost in the turmoil of my madness and decadence.
    Elisabetta

  • The Yellow Rose

    The Yellow Rose

    The yellow rose is my beloved flower
    She watches over me like a star in a dream
    She is always there for me, listening to me
    I love my yellow rose, and she loves me

    In my loneliness, I shun every human shape
    My only refuges are poetry, literature, art and flowers
    I am so overwhelmed by life that I cannot comprehend the sense of my fate
    And so, I abandon myself to decadence and beauty

    Daydreaming is one of my favourite solaces
    I can fly whenever I wish with my imagination
    Avoiding facing a reality and a society I don’t understand
    Feeling always different from others
    I cannot avoid to fall into the valley of despair

    My yellow rose watches over me like a guardian angel
    She is actually my angel, and I protects me from nightmares
    In my secret and hidden garden made of secrets and enigmas
    Where I can lose control of my emotions and be myself

    Panic spasms shake me in my slumber, surrounded by the darkest darkness
    And I can barely breathe, feeling invisible chains around my neck
    And a poundage on my body like an enormous demon of the night
    A ghoul that afflicts my heart with its sharp spear

    The sound of the night birds awakes me in my bed
    And I don’t see anymore my yellow rose that was just an illusion
    A beautiful delusional vision of my subconscious
    I’m all alone again and nothing can protect me anymore

    All my life has been a majestic nightmare
    A nightmare made of violence and survival
    An agony made of horror and demise
    Where there was no place for dreams and hopes
    
    Being voiceless and invisible has been always my reality
    In an existence where I never wanted to be alive
    Being but a doll, half alive and half dead
    A manipulated and deceived doll

    The yellow was my deliverance and the only companion I had
    But she never existed, for she was the fruit of my illusions
    She was the shining star I had always dreamed of
    And forgetting about this life
    I continue to dream because I’m only made of dreams and stars.
    Elisabetta

  • Flowers of Lust

    Flowers of Lust

    Flowers of lust bloomed with passion and love,
    In a lush garden teeming with beauty and sublimity.
    Not even the rain dared touch this magical, magnificent realm,
    Where all dreams always come true.

    Anguish began to poison that ethereal world,
    Each raindrop became a drop of venom and grief,
    Killing all the flowers of lust and leaving the garden a deserted place,
    Where shadows and darkness started to rule.

    Hope faded like the sun’s dying glow,
    As gloominess swallowed the once-enchanted realm.
    The wind carried tales of forgotten euphoria,
    Now replaced by the wails of misery’s presence.

    A veil of sorrow draped over every path,
    Once adorned with roses, now thorns remained.
    The sky, once azure, turned to ominous dark grey,
    And silence grew louder than the softest pain.

    The lovers who feasted in the garden’s embrace,
    Became mere phantoms, vestiges of the remote past.
    Their merriment twisted into haunting laments,
    As the night’s cold grasp on their souls was cast.

    This forsaken place transformed into a castle of rumbles,
    Each remembrance was a reminder of love’s decay.
    No gentle breeze, no floral perfume in the air,
    Only the scent of death would not sway.

    The garden became a grave for passion’s bloom,
    Lay barren, broken, a cradle for despair.
    No longer a haven for hearts to unite,
    But a tomb where love withered, unaware.

    Wilted petals and shattered dreams are all that remain,
    Fragments of a life now lost in vain.
    Each star above seemed to mock the plight,
    Of a paradise torn apart at the seams.

    Amidst the ruins and obliteration,
    The eternal darkness still cast its poisonous spell,
    And gloaming clouds devoured every hopeful bloom.
    No life could flourish in this place of despair,
    A garden trapped in its endless, tragic plight.

    The flowers of lust forever lost their allure,
    As night swallowed day and banished the light.
    In this realm of sorrow, nothing survived,
    Not love, nor joy, nor the faintest gleam,
    But only the fragments of shattered dreams.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Extravagant Flowers

    Extravagant Flowers

    Extravagant flowers bloomed under the shape of luscious desires,
    In the nighttime darkness, they glowed in all their lush,
    A manifestation of fearlessness and carelessness veiled in madness.

    Bleeding flowers blossomed in the garden of doom,
    Where the land was soaked in blood and tears,
    Profane dreams were made of darkness and sorrow,
    Surrounded by the scent of dirty nightmares.

    Every statue in this luscious park was corrupted by the scent of frivolity,
    A labyrinth where completely oblivious travellers, delusional romantics,
    Wandered, losing themselves amidst the shadows of hollow trees.

    A storm of horror overwhelmed the garden,
    A blast of fear tormented the extravagant flowers,
    Leaving crystal blood drops to shine bright under the pale moonlight of dreadful dreams,
    Among the twisted branches of trees, where shadows swirled in trepidation.

    Time no longer existed in this realm of manias and insanity,
    Luscious blossoms became bleeding flowers during ominous nightmares,
    In a secret realm where turmoil ruled supreme,
    The garden of beauty and blood nourished itself on a storm of horrors.

    Sanity had lost its battle against the dominant frenzy,
    Foolish desires ruled this magical, decaying world,
    Where lavish and extravagant flowers bloomed in wild beauty,
    And the sanguinary blossoms thrived in their crimson, sorrowful decay.

    Fountains of amnesia adorned the garden,
    Their waters glistened a red glow under a darkened sky,
    Whispering promises of freedom, although they lured only deeper into oblivion,
    With their aromatic bleeding petals wet with forsaken tears.

    Extravagant flowers intoxicated the air with their fragrance of opulence,
    A perfume that clouded all the senses,
    Numbing reason and igniting insatiable longings
    For more—more dreams, more madness, more of this luscious delirium.

    This luscious maze, once filled with beauty, spiralled into a darkened utopia,
    Where bleeding flowers and lush desires intertwined,
    Feeding on the decay, the obsessions, and the fleeting hopes of delusional hearts.
    Its embrace was eternal, a cold and empty trap,
    Where the most dreadful agony wielded the most power.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Luscious Desires

    Luscious Desires

    Luscious desires bloomed under the shape of extravagant flowers,
    In the nighttime darkness, they loved to glow in all their lush,
    A manifestation of boldness and imprudence.

    Every sculpture in this luscious garden was corrupted by the scent of triviality,
    A labyrinth where unaware visitors
    Usually delusional dreamers,
    Strolled, losing themselves.

    Time did not exist anymore,
    Luscious dreams became a habit
    During each slumber,
    In this realm of obsessions and paranoias.

    Sanity had lost its fight against madness,
    Irrational and luscious desires ruled this magical world,
    Where lavish and luxurious flowers bloomed in all their senseless beauty.

    Fountains of forgetfulness adorned the garden,
    Their waters shimmering under the starry night sky,
    Whispering promises of escape, yet luring only deeper into oblivion.

    Every path led to the same abyss,
    A void where reality blurred,
    And time became an abstract illusion,
    Lost in the haze of perpetual dusk.

    The air was rich with the fragrance of opulence,
    A perfume that clouded the slumbers,
    Numbing reason while igniting an insatiable longing
    For more—more dreams, more madness, more of the luscious delirium.

    Dreamers wandered endlessly,
    Their imprints were muffled by the overgrown vines,
    Each lost in their own reverie,
    Each captive to the garden’s seduction.

    No voice of reason could pierce this veil,
    For even the stars above had forgotten their course,
    Twinkling aimlessly in a sky that no longer cared for order.

    This occult realm, once rooted in the soil of desire,
    Had spiralled into a darkened utopia,
    Where all that was lush and beautiful
    Became the seeds of profound and inescapable chaos.

    Luscious desires flourished, wilder and more feral.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Bleeding Flowers

    Bleeding Flowers

    Bleeding flowers bloomed in the garden of decay,
    Where the soil was soaked in blood and tears,
    Obscene dreams were made of darkness and despair,
    Surrounded by the scent of indecent nightmares.

    A storm of horror and darkness overwhelmed the garden,
    A blast of fragments of fear tormented the bleeding flowers,
    Under the distress of obsession and madness,
    Leaving crystals to shine bright only in the dreams of delusional romantics.

    Beneath the twisted branches of hollow trees, shadows danced in dread,
    Laments of forgotten souls stirred the stagnant air,
    The stars could not glow anymore, as phantom’s ghostly stares,
    Ropes made of spider webs were woven through the madness, a night beyond decency.

    In this surreal realm where nothing pure remained,
    Lovers’ vows were buried deep in graves of dust and sand,
    The bleeding flowers wilted, bound by cursed chains,
    In a world consumed by rot and broken trust.

    Some delusional hearts still dared to hope,
    Being beauty still ruling in those nightmares, fleeting delusional visions,
    The garden bound them in its deadly scope,
    Its embrace was an eternal, cold, and empty trap.

    Bleeding flowers with crimson petals and leaves,
    Their thorns were long and sharp, ready to hurt those admirers of their beauty,
    With their invisible grimaces, these ethereal blossoms pierced
    Feeding themselves with blood and tears.

    Gone desires were just doomed memories of delightful instants,
    Doom and decay fed the garden of dilapidation,
    A hopeless existence was the life of dead trees and bleeding flowers,
    Not anymore could have been rescued from that eternal doom.

    Not even wraiths, not even phantoms, were able to wander in that terrible garden,
    The garden of beauty and blood where the most dreadful agony ruled supreme,
    And time stroke each second like a spasm of agony.
    An endless nightmare of abhorrent darkness.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Poisonous Embrace

    Poisonous Embrace

    Poisonous embrace in a garden’s darkened glade,
    Where shadows twisted and wove,
    While a serpent’s hiss slithered like a whispered kiss beneath the autumn’s rove.

    Among the blooms, so mysterious and colourful, a secret lay concealed,
    Like a venom so pure, in innocent petals’ core, whose true intent was never to be revealed.

    Flowers of darkness, with their colours vibrant and sweet scents, lured the trustful hearts,
    Although their veins were sources of a toxic strain of deadly spite and lust.
    The touch was so delicate, the caress like sunshine.

    Nevertheless, threat lay within,
    A fatal bite, a brisk delight, a kiss of death’s cruel grin.
    A fatal lingering in the garden’s heart, behind the ornate gate.

    Wanderers of wild greens sought the garden’s charm, enchanted by beauty’s glow,
    Oblivious, they strolled through the path where the poison’s roots did prosper.
    They plucked the flowers whose scent made them unconscious of their fate.

    The sun would die, the moon would arise, and clouds would become more bold,
    In the wicked night’s grasp, the garden’s face shifted from amiable to insensitive,
    For those ghouls who lingered spasmodically under the spell of the venom, the night offered no respite from their torment.

    The poisonous embrace turned into a love that vanished into bitter ashes like a burnt dream in the darkest despair.
    Through concealed secrets, enigmas of sorrow reached every futile heart that met death.
    Legends of defeated lovers and trust betrayed were like a poison descending from the sky.

    Magnificent flowers, once so full of life, were now symbols of deceit and destruction,
    Their decay was a reminder of the hidden collapse beneath their beauty.
    Years departed, the garden’s tale, just a legend to be remembered.

    Delusions masked in vanity’s guise turned hearts into hard and cold stones.
    The blooms still flourished, the fragrances sweet, yet none ever dared tread that soil,
    For each leaf contained a toxic grief, a lethal truth.

    The fantastic tale of blossoms’ fair allure,
    Unveiled a bloom where toxic doom endured—
    A fate that’s dark, impure.
    In every leaf, a tale of grief, a story of despair,
    A poisonous embrace awaited those who wandered there.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Flowers Of Stone

    Flowers Of Stone

    Flowers of stone shone under the stars,
    In a moonless night of despair and anguish,
    With a sense of emptiness after lost delights.

    The future showed a promise of betrayal and death,
    In the garden of obliviousness and disdain,
    It could have been a sign of dust and destruction.

    Flowers of bones lay beneath a hollow tree,
    Ancient, like the empty sky quilted with tears and sighs,
    Unpleasant to look at, as under a wicked spell.

    A glimmering seal of dreams and illusions became the portal to endless magic,
    Fading away like a cloud of smoke,
    Prematurely falling into the forgetfulness.

    Magic madness to escape horror and dismay,
    Casting spells over the infinite emptiness,
    Where the imagination is the only saviour.

    Stupor of mind when the darkness swallowed every light,
    Hallucinations of ethereal beauty and mystical delight,
    Lost in the labyrinth of dreams, where reality bent and twisted.

    Under the infinite gloominess,
    Whispers of ancient lore filled the night,
    Weaving tales of yore,
    While, in the stillness of shadows, dreams soared.

    Stars shimmered above as a celestial vision of bliss,
    And in the garden of time, echoes of memories were traced,
    While arcane secrets were revealed in the wind’s embrace.

    Amidst the murmuring trees, where shadows silently ruled,
    Fragments of longings lingered in the night’s obscure realm,
    In the abyss’s deepest caverns, memories were engraved.

    In the depths of solitude,
    Through the veil of illusion,
    Where time was excluded,
    Mysteries lay secluded like flowers of stone inside a cryptic vault.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Realms Of Imagination

    The Realms Of Imagination

    The realms of imagination in the silence
    I had no trace of the visions that I had dreamed
    And listened to them once day and night
    Fountains and planets floated into the nothingness
    Like many thoughts that seem so knowledgeable
    Stars in words, flowers in my hair
    In the depths of everything, into the ocean and waters
    The realm of the universe
    As clouds rain into dusk
    Looking at the storm in light and darkness

    The realms of imagination in the stillness
    It is almost like a dream gleaming in my memories
    Once again, darkness will bring no shadow
    On the rivers and waters that are clear
    When the ocean rises to the sky like storm mountains with happiness, sorrow and bliss
    The mystery of existence is as deep as its own secrets
    Touching the surface of all that was written
    My dreams are to stay
    And thinking of that perfect place
    A world of wonders where boundaries and bonds dissolve

    The realms of imagination in the universe
    Time seems impossible to discover
    As I recall in my inner thoughts
    I become a part of everything, and nothing
    Dreams fly away beyond reality’s boundaries and fade from my sight
    A world of magnificence and bliss
    Where anything can be
    Unleashing creativity set my soul free
    Within the realms of imagination’s domain resides a universe where fantasies reign
    And whispered words dissolve in painted skies

    The realms of imagination
    Where magic can be real, and fantasy becomes an eternal seal
    In the realms of imagination, stories unfold, displaying a tapestry of new and old words
    A captivating imagination’s garden where dreams are cast
    A gateway to explore
    Where the mind’s eye opens, unlocking every door
    A canvas for ideas, limitless and vast
    Within the realms of imagination, worlds collide
    Where ordinary thoughts become magical thrills
    And mazes of flower meadows that shine like sparkling water surface

    The realms of imagination and oddities
    Where dreams come alive
    An imagination’s haven where creativity and hopes thrive
    Wherein the expected transforms and magic comes to be alive
    A realm of marvel where ideas shine brightly, dreams reside and hearts are inspired
    In the realms of fantasy, the reality is blurred
    A world of beliefs and illusion, where dreams are swirled
    Where imagination’s spark ignites my soul and creativity makes me whole
    Thoughts intertwine, creating an intricacy of divine ideas
    Like clouds of fire that disappear

    The realms of imagination and inspiration
    Where tales are created and forever adorned
    The mind explores new worlds by day and night
    A realm of endless wonders, where dreams come true and always renew
    Where visions unfold, and stories are written in undefined verses
    New landscapes emerge from a labyrinth of thoughts
    Unfolding like secrets hidden in ethereal books
    Mountains of fantasy blow the sky
    In these realms, the ordinary evolves into extraordinary
    Where colours are vibrant, and everything turns visionary

    The realms of imagination
    Where the unimaginable flourishes
    And the impossible becomes a tangible reality
    As daydream proms with boundless skill
    The stars and galaxies seem within reach
    Navigating through this enchanting world with no bounds or restraints
    For in these realms, I am the architect of my dreams
    Where the extraordinary becomes the ordinary
    So I let myself embrace this magical domain
    And let my imagination forever reign.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • A Life Made Of Thorns

    A Life Made Of Thorns

    A life made of thorns and wounds and from whom I could ever be the same
    Sometimes things seem a happy game
    Where there is so little to learn
    My heart will be a dream of gold and pearls
    Not having any idea of what it is worth to keep
    In the deception that will always be better at dusk
    From my heart and mind
    As I seek to be pure and untamed
    Always striving to endure the pains

    A life made of thorns
    In this universe, I see only nothing but evil lies
    No longer are you in my heart in any form
    Desires and love
    Unveested and possessed
    And I am filled with a bitter grudge
    Wearing a new fire dress
    The flowers are still there in the garden
    Pretending that the delusions never arrived
    All the past thoughts fled too quickly

    A life made of thorns and gold
    When everything is lost till a dream comes
    In an eternal journey where I was left to survive
    My mind is concealed to the sun growing old
    Every regret has age and shines just like light
    Finding every single glow in my mind and soul
    It looks like everything is secret in my fate
    I can feel the peace of mind and stillness
    There is no fear when there is no hope to acquire
    The magic of exquisite and petrified words is bound to my soul

    A life made of thorns and stones
    The stars linger over flares and bursts
    In the dungeon where I reside, I can hold the sight of my soul
    No longer bound to any mediocre clasp
    Passions are so brief and shallow
    A sheer memory seized my heart
    A feeling of pure desire and bliss melts on my lips
    Nothing but loyal dread brings dreams into my universe
    Sore reflections and unsteadiness of life
    Love kept me blind and meek until I undisclosed a new belief.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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