Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: forlorn

  • Extraordinary Phantasmagorias

    Extraordinary Phantasmagorias

    Extraordinary phantasmagorias came to visit me in my dreams
    In the realm of marvel and delusion
    Where everything was possible
    I could finally find myself, pretending to be a fictitious apparition

    A sordid trepidation captured my attention
    Instead of enjoying the glowing light of my dreams
    I became a frail and ethereal soul submitted to a brutal destiny
    As in an ocean storm, I surrendered to the fury of an enraged chasm

    Slowly I sunk into the deep abyss of the infinite universe
    No matter how I could have strived to keep myself alive
    The abysm swallowed me, claiming me as a creature of his own
    Therefore, my sobs and cries could not rescue me

    My extraordinary phantasmagorias forsook me
    As I was not anymore a creature of their realm
    Indeed, I became a spirit of the tormented Stygian tenebrosity
    Where I was not so privileged to desire beauty and magnificence

    Nonsense was my only escapism
    Madness was my only way to endure such a startling world
    As if I wished to disguise my anguish under the impression of delirious mirth and illusory bliss
    After all, I preferred to foolish myself rather than embrace the cruel misery of reality

    Although I aimed to succeed in my perseverance and wisdom
    I have let my fatuity win and take over my mind and heart
    A captive of my own abyss, I wandered endlessly,
    Lulled by the whispers of my shattered illusions.

    Not even the wind of intemperance welcomed my weepings
    And yet no soul could hear my restless sorrows
    Time became a fantasy and an endless ritual
    As I drifted through the labyrinth of forgotten dreams

    All that survived was a remote hymn of defeated longings,
    Fading into the eternal night,
    While I dissolved into the silence of my own despair.
    Elisabetta

  • Blank Silence

    Blank Silence

    Blank silence filled the solitary mansion as if the very air had been stilled by unseen hands. The echoes of sighs, once alive and vibrant voices, were now long dead, leaving only an oppressive quiet that seeped into the walls. The moon outside cast a frost and pale glow through the decayed windows, but even its light seemed muted, as though it dared not bother the stillness.

    Blank silence ruled the ancient residence, its weight pressing down on every surface. There had been a time when happiness and dreams resounded there when the sound of life loaded the halls. Now, only shadows remained, creeping and crawling over the furniture, whispering secrets that no one could ever hear. The rhythmic sway of a pendulum clock once measured time, but even that had ceased. Time itself had frozen, trapped in the grip of this hollow stillness.

    Blank silence settled deep into those who wandered through the mansion, searching for something that could no longer be remembered. The wind stroked the faded wallpaper; dead leaves ran over dusty books and cracked mirrors. But nothing looked back. There were no reflections here, no memories to cling to—only the vast emptiness stretching on and on. Invisible steps were soundless, and a ghostly breath barely could become a whisper in the choking air.

    Blank silence consumed everything, swallowing the house and all within it. The portraits on the walls stared out with blank, lifeless eyes, and the furniture seemed to sag under the weight of years. No one could tell how long they had been wandering, how many nights they had spent drifting through these halls. Time had lost all meaning here. The silence was eternal, an endless void that had stripped away all sense of reality. There was no sound, no voice, no cry. Only the hollow echo of nothingness stretched out before those who dared to wander, promising no escape.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Infinite Darkness

    The Infinite Darkness

    The infinite darkness crept over the world,
    A veil so impenetrable, no light unfurled,
    In shadows profound, where silence reigned,
    Only specs of sorrow faintly remained.
    The moon, once bright, was now cast in gloom,
    Surrendering its glow to the infinite tomb.

    Beneath the heavens, void and stark,
    A restless whisper clung to the dark,
    Forgotten dreams were laid to waste,
    Swallowed whole with ungodly haste.
    The infinite darkness, cold and still,
    Devoured the soul, crushed the will.

    No star remained in the desolate sky,
    Only the wind’s morbid sigh,
    Through crumbled towers and withered trees,
    A graveyard of lost, forlorn pleas.
    The infinite darkness shrouded all,
    A bleak abyss without recall.

    The hour was late, the world grew numb,
    To the mournful beat of a ghostly drum.
    Voices long buried rose once more,
    Whispers of anguish at death’s door.
    The infinite darkness spread its reign,
    Boundless, eternal, all in vain.

    It claimed the hearts of those who wept,
    It haunted the dreams of those who slept.
    In every crevice, every space,
    It loomed like a spectre, leaving no trace
    Of the world that was, the days of light,
    All faded now in endless night.

    The infinite darkness fed on despair,
    Its breath a chill, an empty stare,
    It pulled the living toward the grave,
    For none, not one, could hope to be saved.
    In its embrace, no warmth remained,
    Only the chill of shadows, unrestrained.

    In the distance, a bell did toll,
    A knell for every lost soul.
    The infinite darkness had won its war,
    Leaving behind an open scar
    Upon the earth, upon the sky,
    A place where even death could die.

    The infinite darkness closed its grip,
    Tight as a chain, cold as a crypt.
    And in that void, so vast, so stark,
    Nothing was left but an endless dark.
    The infinite darkness, now complete,
    Bore the silence of final defeat.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Entropy Dreams

    Entropy Dreams

    Entropy dreams,
    Fragments of utopia scatter in the emptiness,
    In a whirlwind of forsaken dreams,
    Silent screams come to be louder,
    In the void, nothing is what it seems.

    Stars weep, their light fading fast,
    Time disintegrates, a mere illusion,
    The cosmos laughs, a cosmic jest,
    Existence crumbles in confusion.

    Shadows swirl with unseen chains,
    Life’s meaning slips through broken mirrors,
    In the chaos, only doom remains,
    A bitter taste of despair lingers.

    Ethereal entities move with severed ropes,
    Controlled by unscrupulous needles,
    A spectacular show of futile things,
    A game of illusions and cruel wills.

    Stars search for new realms in endless nights,
    Ghouls beat to rhythms of despair,
    Wandering flames grasp at straws of fleeting light,
    Before dissolving in the nothingness.

    An embrace of the void, deprived of hope,
    Chaos, a precious place of the final phase,
    In the end, there is only the abyss of solitude and annihilation,
    Entropy dreams, like a cold and relentless embrace.

    Slowly, the wind moves every delight away,
    Dizziness and anguish like heavy rain,
    During long nights of dismal nightmares,
    Visions of death and tears.

    Blood drops on the stones of ancient times,
    Like red roses blossoming in thorns,
    An invisible dungeon without escape,
    Buried alive dreams.

    At the ends of the universe, forgotten and forlorn,
    Fates and fortunes entwine in macabre proms,
    Legends of chaos, haunting mournings,
    Lost in the labyrinths of chance and oddity.

    Thoughts unravel, threads of wisdom fray,
    Spectres of expectancy drift away in the abyss,
    Beneath the stars’ apathetic glance,
    Entropy dreams surrender to the darkness.

    Void’s clasp, cruel and relentless,
    A garden of despair and sorrow,
    While every memory is a faint reality,
    As the darkness devours the light.

    Tangled in the web of destiny,
    Time ticks to the rhythm of decay,
    In the end, it was too late, too late to reprieve,
    Lost in the grasp of entropy and chaos.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • A Forlorn Lantern

    A Forlorn Lantern

    A forlorn lantern was enlightening the chasms of midnight,
    Swaying in desolate grace,
    Its flickering light, a spectral frolic,
    Guided the lost in a trance.

    Shadows stretched like ghostly tendrils,
    Across forsaken and haunted lands,
    Sighs of a forgotten past echoed through the night,
    Steadfast in the grip of eternal fright.

    The lantern’s glow was pale and wan,
    Its glimmers Illuminated a path long gone,
    Through mist and gloom, it led astray,
    Guiding dreams that would have lost their way.

    Its glass, shattered by time’s cruel jest,
    Reflected the sorrow of the restless anguish,
    In every flame, a story was hiding,
    Of hearts that once were amiable, now cold.

    In the silence, secrets hid,
    Beneath the lantern’s mournful sway,
    A flare for the cursed and lost,
    In the shadows of the past, they fade away.

    Beneath the crescent moon’s senseless stare,
    The forlorn lantern swung in the damp air,
    A solitary and magical lodestar,
    In the darkness, it did confide.

    Flickers and whispers of bygone dreams,
    Plagued the edges of moonlit streams,
    Where remnants of the long-departed lingered,
    In the glooms of the bygone days, they softly perished.

    An eternal vigil, a silent invocation,
    For those who wandered, lost and bare,
    The forlorn lantern’s light was the only compass,
    In the darkened abyss where shadows sough.

    On every eerie, timeless night,
    The forlorn lantern shone its glare,
    A spectral glow in profound shadiness,
    Guiding the lost who never rested.

    Tormenting echoes of a mournful elegy,
    The lantern’s light lasted all night long,
    Its rays, though faint, still mighty,
    To ward off the nighttime hour by hour.

    A vestige of sorrow’s plight,
    This forlorn lantern was an ethereal gaze,
    Its flame, a lamp for the bewildered,
    Burning through the night despite the strain.

    Each night, as clouds drew near,
    The lantern’s light cast out the fear,
    A solitary star in the infinite dusk,
    Its shine, a faint yet steadfast spark.

    No one knew from whence it came,
    This forlorn lantern, with its everlasting flame,
    But in its glow, the lost wayfarers found peace,
    A moment’s solace, a brief release.

    In the end, the darkness gave way,
    To dawn’s first light, the break of day,
    And the forlorn lantern, in twilight’s gust,
    Owned stories of life, love, and death.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Castle By The Ocean

    The Castle By The Ocean

    The castle by the ocean stood on a cliff ruled by shadows at night,
    An ancient, towering fortress, fierce and fantastic, haunted and forlorn.
    It rose from the rock, a sentinel of stone and memory,
    Bearing witness to countless storms, its walls were stroked by time and tide.

    Waves mild and intense disclosed secrets long heretofore,
    Stories of love and death, of struggles fought and lives surrendered.
    In the moon’s pale, ghostly glares, spectres roamed the halls at dusk,
    Their steps echoed through the aisles, a mournful melody.

    Turrets pierced through the mist, emerged scornful against the sky,
    Their silhouettes were a stark contrast to the swirling fog below.
    Windows, once alive with lamps, now gazed upon the sea,
    Stares of sorrow, dark and unbound, reflected the endless expanse.

    The castle’s gates, long rusted shut, held tales of ancient treasures,
    Of kings and queens, of fearless knights, their legends carved in gravel.
    The castle by the ocean with walls carved by time and storms kept secret stories from days sunk in oblivion,
    Each pebble bore the weight of a history’s silent song.

    Mirrors of the past stuck around inside every tormented chamber,
    In each stone, a hidden misery and a remembrance were entombed.
    The ballroom, now empty, once rang with giggle and mirth,
    Feasts and proms, melodies raised, celebrating life and inception.

    The castle by the ocean sobbed, a lament to the sky,
    Where restless spirits never perished, bound to this earthly realm.
    They wandered through the twilight, shades of what once was,
    Guardians of forgotten lore lost in time’s relentless haze.

    The library, with dusty tomes, held knowledge long since known,
    Books of wisdom, spells, and dreams, their pages now unattended.
    Cobwebs draped the chandeliers, their crystals dull and silver,
    Once sparkling at the candlelight, now dimmed by centuries’ decay.

    The courtyard, overgrown with wild shrubs, where flowers used to bloom,
    Now lay as silent witness to nature’s quiet doom.
    However, the castle by the ocean stood firm, defiant against time,
    A relic of a bygone era, preserved in sorrow’s tears.

    The castle by the ocean became a monument to the past,
    An ancient, towering fortress, severe and feral, tormented and desolate.
    Its heritage, etched in stone and sea, whispered on the wind,
    A tale of unyielding resolve, where ghouls endlessly persisted.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • An Enigma

    An Enigma

    An enigma hid in the mansion of forgotten dreams,
    Where shadows whispered silent screams,
    Shrouding the enigma, cloaked in night,
    A tale obscured from mortal sight.

    Mirrors and ghosts haunted the halls,
    Reflecting secrets through eerie walls,
    Glimmers of the past in moonlit haze,
    Lost in time’s labyrinthine maze.

    Candles flickered, wan and pale,
    Telling secrets of the frail,
    Of love that perished, dreams that bled,
    In rooms where silence masked the dead.

    Mirrors cracked by sorrow’s hand,
    Reflected a world so dark, so grand,
    Where whispered words and solemn cries blended with the wind’s mournful sighs,
    Lost relics of a time long banned.

    Portraits stared with hollow eyes,
    Guardians of forgotten lies,
    Their painted smiles hid the tears,
    Of long-lost souls and vanished years.

    Cobwebs draped the chandelier,
    Rustling with each breath of fear,
    As footsteps echoed on the floor,
    A haunting rhythm, evermore.

    The garden, wild with thorns and greed,
    A relic of time’s cruel speed,
    Where once bloomed roses, red and fair,
    Now stands a graveyard of despair.

    The clock tower, rusted, struck no chime,
    A sentinel to decaying time,
    Its hands froze in endless plight,
    Marking the hour of infinite night.

    In the library, dust-covered tomes,
    Spoke of lives and silent glooms,
    Of poets lost in melancholy,
    Their words were a dance of solemn folly.

    By the hearth, now cold and dead,
    Lay ashes of words that once were said,
    Their warmth, a memory, now faded,
    In silence, their essence was jaded.

    The ballroom, grand, now stood forlorn,
    Echoing with a silent horn,
    Where once the waltz of life granted delight,
    Now shadows danced in the muted light.

    An ancient portrait framed in gold,
    Of shadows, beautiful and bold,
    Their eyes, an enigma, deep and wide,
    Held secrets of the dark inside.

    Whispers floated through the air,
    Of love betrayed, of deep despair,
    A haunting tale of sorrow’s kiss,
    An enigma wrapped in the mist.

    The attic held a secret chest,
    With treasures lost and stories left in bequest,
    A diary of a broken heart,
    Torn apart, a tragic art.

    Beneath the mansion’s grand façade,
    A magic vault where shadows guarded,
    A legacy of pain and woe,
    Where tears and whispers dwindled low.

    The enigma, wrapped in sorrow’s veil,
    A ghostly ship in endless sail,
    Its secrets whispered through the gloom,
    In the mansion, an eternal garden of thorns that never ceased to bloom.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Forsaken Lighthouse

    The Forsaken Lighthouse

    The forsaken lighthouse stood on a cliff,
    Where waves crashed below, and cold winds blew,
    Its beacon, once a guiding light,
    Now darkened by eternal night.

    The keeper’s ghost walked the stairs,
    His heart was a web of deep despairs,
    With each step, his sorrow increased,
    In the lighthouse, where no light glimmered.

    His love was lost to the sea’s embrace,
    A tragic time that could not have been erased,
    He waited for her on stormy nights,
    In shadows deep, beneath moonlight.

    The foghorn moans, a mournful sound,
    A cry for souls lost and unfound,
    The sea whispered tales of woe,
    Of lives claimed by its undertow.

    The lantern room, a silent tomb,
    Where once a flame cut through the gloom,
    Now dark and cold, it held his pain,
    In every drop of sorrow’s rain.

    He tended a lamp that never burned,
    In endless nights, his spirit yearned,
    For a return, a hopeless dream,
    In the lighthouse, where shadows screamed.

    The waves crashed hard against the rock,
    Their fury met with silent shock,
    His ghostly formed, a shade of silver,
    A heart that’s lost, a soul in the fray.

    The seagulls cried, a haunting plea,
    Above the dark, relentless sea,
    Their wings a blur against the sky,
    In mournful flight, they, too, must have died.

    The forsaken lighthouse lost forever its beacon’s glow,
    Besotted by the sorrow that ruled infamously,
    For in that tower, shadows dwelled,
    Of love lost to the ocean’s swell.

    Beneath the stars, his vigil kept,
    As tides rose high and darkness crept,
    The ghostly keeper, bound by fate,
    In sorrow’s grasp, he’d always have to wait.

    A presence in the mist so pale,
    A love-lorn ghost, a mournful tale,
    The forsaken lighthouse stood as a monument,
    To love and loss, forever spent,
    An unextinguished flame to the broken-hearted lost in the gale.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

© Esther Racah 2025. All rights reserved.