Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: frozen earth

  • Dreams And Tears

    Dreams And Tears

    Dreams and tears, in an age when night knew no end
    I dreamed while crying, my tears dissolving into faint shadows
    I was a sorceress obsessed with arcane spells and crimson flowers
    I was the most mysterious and elusive blossom in the garden of the eternal night
    Where I envisioned extravagant fantasies and alluring chimaeras
    I had become overwhelmed by darkness and obsessions
    My longings morphed into moths and ravenous incubi

    My obsessions consumed me in their dim realm of allure and doom
    I lay bare upon the damp and frozen earth
    Powerless as I was before the immensity of an ocean of nonsense and decadence
    Secluded in my alcove of turmoil, I passed my nights surrounded by nightmares
    Born to be the prey of my own folly
    When petals of frenzy pierced me like tiny thorns of despair
    Opening the portal to an obscure realm whose knowledge dazzled me permanently
    I was shattered and not inclined to see my own reflection in mirrors

    I felt the full consequence of my anguish on my chest
    As if a passionate spectre rested viciously upon my body
    While the snow caressed me, as if it were its purpose to soothe my languid soul
    My tears never left my face, descending onto the frozen soil and creating flowers of fire and darkness
    The crimson moon cast faint glimmers across the night sky
    Amid the chaos, the luminaries emerged in the shape of sparkling gems
    And the firmament echoed my name through the stygian abyss

    Suddenly, sulfurous and gloomy clouds concealed all the stars, enveloping the night in absolute murkiness
    All my dreams were burnt, and their ashes were buried beneath a gravestone
    I became infinite, and nothingness as well, surrounded by fiery flowers and garnet gems
    The everlasting flame within my heart was untamed and eager, like a feral creature
    And the night penetrated me utterly, a vicious presence of darkness.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Evanescent Chimaeras

    Evanescent Chimaeras

    Evanescent chimaeras were fragile,
    Like sand castles destroyed by violent tides,
    In the darkness of the night,
    Beneath a starless night sky.

    Lores of lost longings were engraved,
    On every dead leaf intoxicated by the blizzard.
    Fragments of ancient sorrow lingered,
    Frozen in the gusts of a restless wind.

    Shadows stretched like fractured dreams,
    And the moon hid behind a veil of despair.
    Broken mirrors reflected hollow trees,
    Where ephemeral wraiths appeared and faded.

    Their mournful cries dissolved in silence,
    Carried away to oblivion’s edge.
    Serpentine branches clawed at the void,
    Yearning for passions that they had never known.

    While flowers shuddered in the frozen earth,
    Guarding secrets buried deep and cold.
    The realm was endowed with the burden of grief,
    Each sigh was a flake of a dying flame.

    Evanescent chimaeras became crystal gems,
    Sparkling in the night’s relentless embrace.
    A dance of glares and glooms unfolded to disquiet the nighttime,
    In a subliminal fantasy of folly and beauty.

    Time seemed to wither away,
    And every sigh was a dreadful lamentation.
    The sky, an ink-stained canvas torn asunder,
    Seemed to bleed darkness from unseen wounds.

    Stars were but distant memories, fading,
    Like whispers of lost souls slipping into voids.
    Wails echoed through the cold stillness,
    Like ghostly hymns sung for a dying world.

    Mournful notes wrapped around this realm,
    Magic disintegrations obliterated every little light that remained.
    Phantoms wandered aimlessly through the haze,
    Their translucent forms trembled in the cold.

    They traced forgotten paths along the dusk,
    In search of places that no longer existed.
    In the chasm of that haunted silence,
    Evanescent chimaeras turned to dust once more,
    Scattered by the wind, forever vanished.

    Their fleeting dance was a requiem for the lost,
    An elegy woven into the night’s black shroud.
    And as the reality slowly succumbed to oblivion,
    Only despair and sorrow remained.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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