Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: forsaken

  • Leaving Myself Behind

    Leaving Myself Behind

    Leaving myself behind
    Through the pains and fears
    Anguish was my ruler
    And I didn’t demand anything
    Hurt was my soul made of pins and blood

    The roars of the demons claiming me echoed in my head
    The castle of doom was my pristine dwelling
    It was made of bones and ashes
    In the gloominess of the midnight

    I was fleeing from death to become decadence
    Leaving everything behind
    My past had crumbled to sand and memories
    Remembrances that followed me wherever I was going

    Disgraceful was my existence and only thorns stroked me
    Black roses were swallowing me like a prey
    Gloaming shadows surrounded me
    Beneath the indifferent gaze of the silvery moon

    I could only hear laments as manifestations of the night
    A mist of sorrow shrouded me like a gloomy cloak
    The cold air was full of decadence
    My heart slowed down at the sound of the drums of mourning

    I wandered beneath the barren heavens
    I had become a ghost clothed in remnants of despair
    I strived to seek refuge and rescue
    But all I could ever feel was the numbness of endless wandering

    The world around me blurred into shadows
    My realm was a graveyard of forsaken dreams
    Where even the stars had eclipsed for eternity
    And the winds sang elegies to my fall

    In this endless procession of sadness
    I was no longer a creature of the light because my heart was deceased
    But I was only a phantom dissolving into a mist
    Forever swallowed by the sorrowful darkness

    Leaving myself behind
    I left a trail of thorns and blood
    My heart was torn apart
    I was just a shadow of the underworld

    My face was carved with tears and scars
    And the paleness of death erased it all
    As if all my agony had faded like dust
    In the end, I vanished into the oblivion of forsaken sorrows.
    Elisabetta

  • Forsaken Dreams

    Forsaken Dreams

    Forsaken dreams lay scattered like leaves on a desolate lawn,
    Beneath the weight of darkness, shadows loomed and sighed.
    A castle crumbled in the grip of despair,
    Fragments of hope were lost and hanging in the void.

    Wandering through silence where visions once soared,
    Stillness wrapped tightly around the forgotten.
    Each step was like drifting through memories frayed,
    As ghosts of ambition haunted paths once laid.

    Forgotten dreams, like stars turned to ash,
    Fleeting glimpses of futures that faded too fast.
    The sounds now muted, cold as stone,
    While shadows enveloped, tales left unknown.

    In a chamber of portraits, their faces half-blurred,
    The dreams of youth, in stillness, unheard.
    Calling from corners of places long lost,
    Whispering gently of the lines once crossed.

    Nonetheless, deep in the stillness, a flicker of pain,
    Forsaken dreams lingered; in shadows, they remained.
    Each one a reminder of battles hard-fought,
    Of fires within that time forgot.

    But hope lay buried, covered in dust,
    From ashes of sorrow, it rose from distrust.
    Gathering fragments, each whisper, each scream,
    In the dark of the night, the lost dream was redeemed.

    Mended the pieces, igniting a spark,
    Reviving the forgotten, illuminating the dark.
    For dreams, though shattered, never entirely die—
    In the heart of the dreamer, they eternally lie.

    Through the mist of despair, a path was found,
    With each heartbeat, shadows chased from the ground.
    Though night still lingered, dawn followed close,
    And in the garden of longing, hope arose.

    With courage reborn, a star now stood,
    Embracing the dawn, the new morning understood.
    In the silence of the night, fate was rewritten,
    For in dreams, belonging is always forgiven.

    Forsaken dreams lingered in the shadows,
    Casting ancient spells to find lost treasures.
    Forgotten mysteries carried the weight of unrealised desires,
    Although beneath the sorrow, a quiet strength stirred,
    Yearning for light once more.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • An Empty Life

    An Empty Life

    An empty life became a monument to emptiness,
    A celebration of nothingness in an empty universe,
    Among shadows and darkness, where silence ruled.

    Ghostly whispers were ephemeral vestiges,
    Of delights lost in forsaken dwellings,
    Houses crumbled in hollow valleys,
    Under the glare of dark clouds, forever forced to roam.

    An empty life drifted through the gardens of thorns,
    Where vibrant screams faded into mere sighs,
    And undisclosed dreams perished.

    The clock ticked slowly, its hands wearied,
    Time grieved softly, though none were teary,
    Chasing phantoms of faded grace,
    In a world stripped bare, devoid of space.

    Empty chambers lit by the dimmest light,
    Once filled with the ardour, they were now eerie mazes,
    With portraits of eyes that once sparkled with lively glee.

    Staring blankly beyond imagination,
    In the mirror, an outsider’s mask,
    Reflected haunting reveries in this empty space,
    A life once painted in vibrant hues.

    Grey blood was a relic of a cruel fate,
    Each day, a raindrop fell behind the silver surface of a mirror,
    In the void’s embrace, where expectations grew thin.

    Lost in the labyrinth of despair,
    An empty life drifted, gasping for air,
    The garden once bloomed with bright colours,
    Now lay barren, devoid of light.

    Withering petals like dreams left behind,
    In the stillness, a haunting echo of the mind,
    Once, delight and joy filled every creaking stair.

    And so silence weaved its cloak of despair,
    The fervour of a touch now was just a ghost,
    In this empty life, memories tormented the most,
    Cobbled paths led to nowhere forever.

    With dreams forgotten, everyone would have taken their vow,
    To wander aimlessly, in shadows confined,
    In the emptiness, where no solace could ever be found.

    A glimmer of hope in a world turned bleak,
    Finally, every endeavour felt cold and weak
    As the sun set low on a weary spirit,
    An empty life remained beyond control.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Withering Tree

    The Withering Tree

    The Withering Tree
    by Esther Elizabeth Racah

    The withering tree stood bare amidst the wood,
    Its branches once reached for skies long gone.
    Leaves had fallen where they proudly stood,
    Resilience faded with each new dawn.

    Its trunk was gnarled, scarred by time,
    Rooted deep in forsaken earth.
    It had struggled to grasp a fleeting rhyme
    Of seasons past and vanished mirth.

    Winter winds had howled through its limbs,
    Shaking loose the last of pride.
    Each gust was a reminder of forgotten hymns
    In the cold where warmth had died.

    Spring had brought no buds from its bark,
    No whispers of renewal’s grace.
    The withering tree remained stark in the dark,
    A witness to nature’s cruel embrace.

    Summer’s sun had bypassed its boughs,
    Casting shadows on its forlorn frame.
    While life thrived in neighbouring crowds,
    The tree had stood still, devoid of flame.

    Autumn had arrived, but no colours blazed—
    They had long since faded away.
    The withering tree had endured in a sombre daze,
    A symbol of endless, silent decay.

    The ground beneath it had cracked and dried,
    No rain to quench its thirsty roots.
    Silent beneath an empty sky,
    Where once it had borne green shoots.

    Each storm that passed had left no mark;
    Its branches swayed but never bent.
    The tree had remained a hollow arc,
    Its growth and life long spent.

    It stood as a sombre sight,
    A monument to forgotten days.
    Its vibrant leaves had lost their light,
    In a landscape shrouded by decay’s haze.

    As seasons changed and years went by,
    The tree became a ghostly shade.
    Its story whispered to the sky,
    In silence, where it slowly decayed.

    In the forest where it once reigned,
    The withering tree’s memory waned—
    A symbol of time’s relentless strain,
    Where life’s echoes had long been drained.

  • The Arcane Portal

    The Arcane Portal

    The arcane portal lay in the heart of a desolate and forsaken wood,
    Where ancient trees with gnarled whispers stood,
    There emerged a portal veiled in deep shadows,
    A gateway in the nightly and sorrowful meadows.

    Beneath the moon’s pale, ghostly light,
    The portal pulsed with a spectral might,
    Its frame of obsidian, cold and grim,
    Echoed with chants of a forgotten hymn.

    Creeping fog enshrouded the ground,
    Muffling all the hollow, eerie sound,
    Of whispers from souls long lost in time,
    Who crossed the threshold and committed their crime.

    The air was thick with despair’s embrace,
    No joy or hope could find its place,
    Only the weight of an eternal night,
    And the haunting visions of endless fright.

    From the portal’s depths, a chill wind blew,
    Carrying whispers that no one knew,
    Of secrets buried in the ancient soil,
    Tales of woe, of endless toil.

    Spectres roamed in silent grief,
    Bound to the arcane portal, with no relief,
    Their eyes hollow, their forms so thin,
    Trapped between worlds, they could not grin.

    The trees around, their branches bare,
    Seemed to weep in the cold, still air,
    As shadows danced in a mournful waltz,
    To the portal’s call, a siren’s quartz.

    A lone wanderer, drawn by fate’s cruel hand,
    Stood at the threshold of this cursed land,
    A step away from the endless abyss,
    Where darkness reigned with a twisted bliss.

    Fear-rooted dreams, their heart a snare,
    Caught in the portal’s wicked glare,
    And there they stood, forever bound,
    Trust was lost in the portal’s playground.

    In the silence of the cursed wood,
    Only echoes of lost souls eternally misunderstood,
    The ghosts’ signs, a final plea,
    Lost to the arcane portal’s dark decree.

    No dawn would break this eternal night,
    No hope, no glimpse of heaven’s light,
    Just endless despair, a fate unkind,
    Within the portal blew a perpetual wind,
    A hollow echo, no solace to find.
    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

  • A Forsaken Dream

    A Forsaken Dream

    A forsaken dream of lost hopes,
    In the deep ocean of despair and grief,
    Limitless and was as the sky of darkness,
    Where silence reigned supreme,
    And no solace would embrace the night,
    Yearning for the dawn’s advent.

    In the stillness of the eternal obscurity,
    Hope flickered like a distant star,
    A beacon in the endless infinite,
    Guiding dreams toward twilight embrace,
    Through shadows and whispers,
    In a maze of ashes and sorrows.

    In the abyss of forsaken longings,
    Where memories faded like autumn leaves,
    Each tear fell from the tree of pain,
    Carving its mark upon the time,
    The sigil of a weary sigh,
    Seeking refuge from the storm of delusions.

    Amidst the ruins of shattered dreams,
    Lay the seed of despair,
    Buried deep within the heart’s core,
    Waiting for the doubt’s cruel touch,
    To bloom amidst the desolation,
    A twisted flower of haunting sorrows.

    The night became a canvas of untold horrors,
    Painted with hues of melancholy and dread,
    Within its darkest shades,
    Lay a promise of relentless torment,
    Where light was but a fleeting ghost,
    And shadows devoured the feeble glow.

    Through the valleys of despair,
    And the mountains of anguish,
    The ethereal dreams wandered, lost,
    Guided by the whispers of forgotten dreads,
    A chilling relic of what once was alive,
    That refused to fade away.

    In the realm of chimaeras,
    Woven with threads of misery and pain,
    Each moment was a dark stain,
    In the intertwining of life and death,
    Though the night might have seemed eternal,
    The dawn was but an illusion,
    Bringing with it the torment of false hope.

    Tears fell like acid rain,
    Corroding the seeds of hope,
    Embracing the night’s cold grasp,
    For it was in the darkness,
    That the stars burned with an eternal flame,
    Leading dreams further into the abyss.

    In the emptiness of silence,
    As time faded,
    A dirge of despair and hopelessness,
    Emerged from the depths of sadness,
    A vision of endless nights.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Subliminal Paresis Of My Soul

    The Subliminal Paresis Of My Soul

    The subliminal paresis of my soul
    Oblivion is the poesy of mind
    Vanity and treasures are the paroxysms of nullity
    I began to strive for my hopeless dreams
    Without any intention of conquest
    Disconnected from useless inquiry
    Disintegrated is my soul
    Split in multiple fragments
    In a life hanging by a thread
    The hallucinations devastate me
    Falling into a sunken world
    With the purpose of spoiling every hope of mine
    Transforming constantly into some new shape
    Like an amorphous entity

    The subliminal paresis of my soul
    Shrinking in an unloveable world
    I never felt so nonsensical and translucent
    Like the death inside space
    The universe’s beauty is an image of my thoughts and beliefs
    My spiritual visions are a reflection of the dimness of my imagination
    Nothing but the wisdom of emptiness in the eternity
    Without any proper understanding of the occurrences will happen
    In the needlessness of lives
    Many exquisite moments and memories are forgotten forever
    I will become unknown as I never existed
    Forsaken in a mean destiny
    Time continues to fail inquisitively serene
    Rejecting the day’s eternal night

    The subliminal paresis of my soul
    The blinking of the time passing incessantly
    There is no reason I would not suffer indifference
    Though my mind is pure as well as my heart
    I will always mourn the mediocrity of the material objectification
    That should be a secret of mine
    But I will always express myself until I breathe at the very last
    The truth could be the world’s treasure rather than a shameful blame
    Not too smart enough to sugarcoat the horrid and havoc
    At the end of the eternity
    I will never get lost in another’s perspectives
    As I am changeless and immutable in my perpetual unpredictable disposition
    Nothingness and void are my welcomed companions
    In the darkness of the nights
    When the silence hushes my breath, I shut my eyes, sorrowful.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • An Unempirical Realm

    An Unempirical Realm

    An unempirical realm
    As a characteristic of nature
    Poetry is an environment of emotions
    It is pretty far from pleonexia
    But extremely close to lavishness
    Wisdom is an ethereal essence
    Created to live a life of bliss and joy
    It is unfathomable and conceivable
    Nature is in everything and nothingness
    Time continues until darkness end
    A day lost in hope is lost forever
    Exhaustion of delight and lust
    An honour of anguish and hopelessness

    An unempirical realm of mystery
    Where the mind is detached and unrestrained
    A lifetime becomes an instant
    Time is unrepeatable
    The world is peaceless
    Recycled wounds are made of illusions
    Grasping the endless void of emotions futilely
    In a universe of solitons and darkness
    The emptiness becomes glorified and celebrated
    A single time of consciousness is enough
    The cosmic waves and oceans are made of ideas
    Everything gets lost in time and forsaken
    Forgotten and eternal worlds

    An unempirical realm of nature
    Enchanted without any meaning
    When every word is denied
    Seeking the beginning
    With rare selfishness and envy
    An intelligible system of life
    A single extraordinary and unknown universe
    Among the several ones
    In acts of worldly senses
    Escaping the sight of light and reality
    The realm of the depths of life
    Nothing to achieve and reach by
    But only the silence of peace

    An unempirical realm
    A landscape of old times
    The egotism of truth and denial
    The void of love and greed
    In search for a space and dimension
    By the inescapable soul enchantment
    With so many fallen dreams and precariousness
    When I perceive the shadows of the stars
    Struggling with every kind of achievement
    A devotion which was lost and recovered
    Holding a vision meant no sympathy
    The essences of life and death are enclosed
    With so many spasms of a new creation.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Waves Of Darkness

    The Waves Of Darkness

    The waves of darkness
    Crash against the shore
    As I stand here all alone
    The wind whispers in my ears
    And I feel like I’m forsaken
    The sea is vast and wide
    But I’m not frightened to dive
    Into the depths of my soul
    Where the mysteries unfold
    The sun sets on the horizon
    And the stars fail to light up the sky
    Which is an abyss of decrepit wrecks
    Made of anguish and oblivion
    I have never been created as a dream
    The silence has no fear
    In the sky above, all the worlds spin round
    The waves of darkness flow
    To the land where there’s no light
    An empty place to reach.
    This is how one’s dreams begin.
    With hope and delight
    The waves of darkness
    Are silent;
    And I see
    That world has no end.
    I know
    My mind is the sky
    But
    Its essence is a river.
    Nothing ever is the same
    Darkness is like a fire
    The night has gone with my dreams
    And the light runs out,
    Like thunder lingering on the shore
    And darkness is everywhere
    This dream of mine is quiescent.
    Life is considerably hasty and bitter
    There is nothing left to last,
    All those unknown memories have flown for this day
    Like a flood that overwhelms and destroys the universe.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

© Esther Racah 2025. All rights reserved.