Tag: fright

  • The Realm of Nightmares

    The Realm of Nightmares

    The realm of nightmares, beneath the cold and silver grin of the stars,
    Treading through passages of dread,
    Where shadows writhe, and walls grow thin,
    As whispers crawl from ear to head.

    The clock unmakes each moment’s tread,
    Time drips to dust and fades away,
    The voices of the ancient dead,
    Their chilling grins lead unfortunates astray.

    A sky of crimson, decadent with ash,
    Hangs heavy over this broken realm,
    The earth beneath begins to thrash,
    As claws reach up through cursed sand.

    Wandering through the realm of nightmares,
    Locked away in endless nights,
    Where every step, each haunted lair,
    Steeped in sorrow, drenched in fright.

    No solace here, no peace of mind,
    In this dark realm, the soul’s alone,
    Where horrors bloom grotesque, unkind,
    And terror sinks deep to the bone.

    A scream escapes, but silence reigns,
    A ghostly sound that’s never heard,
    While stars above ignite with flames,
    And burn away the final remark.

    With every moment, the walls collapse,
    The floor beneath bends and snaps,
    The realm of nightmares, vast and infinite,
    No start, no end—just shattered maps.

    The trees are twisted, black and bare,
    Their limbs reach out with claws of spite,
    From their breath, bitter winds ensnare,
    Extinguishing the newborn light.

    No dawn will come to end this storm,
    No morning’s grace to chase the gloom,
    For in the realm of nightmares, no light takes form,
    And shadows haunt each quiet room.

    Eyes burn like coals in masks grim,
    Their gaze, the deepest, darkest dread,
    And though they wear a thousand shrouds,
    Not one of them was indeed dead.

    They form from phantoms, born of fear,
    Each nightmare weaves from horror’s thread,
    Their breath, the wind; their voice sings clear,
    Of sleepless nights and waking dread.

    The ground below turns into clay,
    It pulls all down into its strand,
    Where darkness swallows the light of day,
    And reason cracks like brittle sand.

    Falling, falling—there is no end,
    No waking from this cursed blight,
    For in the realm of nightmares, the rules will bend,
    And all are trapped in endless nights.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Labyrinth Of Crimson Nightmares

    The Labyrinth Of Crimson Nightmares

    The labyrinth of crimson nightmares,
    A realm where shadows twisted in endless layers,
    A maze of fear and haunting cries,
    Beneath the blood-red skies.

    Cold and bare walls of gravestones,
    Emerged with a chilling stare,
    Each corner revealed a twisted scene,
    A realm of darkness where ghosts convened.

    The air was made of mournful cries,
    As spectres drifted and dimness flew,
    In hallways of twisted elegance,
    Eternal sorrow left its trace.

    A crimson light, both faint and grim,
    Gave the maze a spectral dim,
    Figures danced in fleeting grace,
    Their faces were hidden, lost in space.

    In every niche, whispers resounded,
    Secrets buried deep, unbound,
    Tales of pain and endless dread,
    Relics of the forsaken since dead.

    Mirrors, cracked and darkly stained,
    Reflected the fears that once remained,
    Eyes stared back with hollow gaze,
    Lost in the maze’s endless haze.

    The scent of flowers, tinged with decay,
    Lingered where nightmares plotted in dismay,
    A silent scream, a phantom’s wail,
    Guided the lost through fearsome trails.

    A grand hall, yet fraught with disquiet,
    Shadows loomed in eerie twilight,
    A crimson alcove, dark and stark,
    Where nightmares fed on every mark.

    The labyrinth of crimson nightmares,
    Whose walls stirred, twisted, and sighed,
    Entrapping ghouls in endless strife,
    In a realm where infinite death was rife.

    Every turn a darker shade,
    Every step, a deeper raid,
    The labyrinth of crimson nightmares with its shifting maze,
    Kept trapped in its cruel daze.

    As the night elapsed, the darkness bound,
    The labyrinth of crimson nightmares preyed on disquieted spirits,
    Spectral laughter, ghastly moans,
    Resonated through the darkness.

    The dawn might have come, the maze might have shifted,
    But the crimson curse would never lift,
    In the heart of gloominess’s cruel seam,
    The labyrinth of crimson nightmares remained a dream.

    Each dawn revealed a graver fright,
    In endless depths of endless nights,
    Unfathomable in its design,
    The maze consumed the light, malign.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Agony Of Uncertainty

    The Agony Of Uncertainty

    The agony of uncertainty is my dwelling
    It was all I had written on a mirror
    A long sequence of characters
    Which I used to write
    And nothing further
    Forever and never
    I have been lost
    Striving to remember my name and my story
    Since I was born with a great devotion to art
    Such joy should be life
    Once everything has been forgotten with time

    The agony of uncertainty is a tree in the sea
    Where it is possible to be merry
    A moment has come to bear a perceived memory
    Like dreams repeatedly created and destroyed
    Each season and new year
    The time is past and never hides
    Torments are shortened by days and nights
    To avoid suffering and distress
    I might become pleased as I would pretend
    My past life never existed
    Becoming something imaginary

    The agony of uncertainty is a dark forest
    Where the wounds never disappear
    Only memories can unfold
    Looking onward and writing my dreams
    And all those unconcealed secrets
    That the soul keeps as the deepest memories
    The nightmares of the heart are lost in the dark
    The fate of dark stars is entwined in indifference
    The gloom of endless thoughts of sorrow
    Lost forever in a silent emptiness
    Which never dies

    The agony of uncertainty and pain
    Thereupon I move forward through the long desert of death
    Reaching more intention and joy
    My thoughts are made of fears
    Bleeding each time, I became wiser
    No hope was found in the devotion of love
    Instants of lust in the deepest silence
    Fretting about the decay of every bliss
    Dread should last forever in death
    When everything is lost
    The truth is the door of a new consciousness

    The agony of uncertainty and delight
    Always shining in an infinite reality
    My heart is truly sacred
    Beyond deception and mendacity
    Seeking the truth as an insight
    When no choice is granted
    The tears, like fright, lit the earth
    The grief within my soul is still alive
    I should not always be afraid
    Gifted with patience to keep
    My soul is bound to be naive.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

© Esther Racah 2025. All rights reserved.