The melancholy of abandoned hopes,
In the abyss of the night, where shadows softly crept, dwelled the realm of sorrow and wept,
Underneath the moon’s pale and ghostly glow,
While the whispering woes of the night winds blew.
Sorrow’s realm dwelled in the shadows and hid in the abyss of the night,
Where secrets slept among ancient ruins of failed dreams,
Ivy grew so thick to lurk the sorrow of abandoned and sick illusions,
Once-bright ambitions now faded and torn.
Hope lay buried in silence, where it was once born,
In the emptiness and void of senses, now haunting and cold,
Reverberating through halls where bliss and peace once strolled,
Whose walls, now crumbling, spoke of days gone by.
When hearts were full and spirits high,
In the broken windows, only reflections of despair,
Glimpsed spirits and ghouls who lingered, forever ensnared in hollowed traps of disdain,
Their eyes, like sunken wells, devoid of light, told of battles lost in endless nights of death.
The aether became thick with whispers of unkept promises,
Of futures once envisioned, now silently swept away,
By wild storms with hurling winds of mournful cruelty,
Ghostly sighs carrying remnants of gloomy cries.
Beneath the withered trees, where no sunlight dared to tread,
Lay the remnants of fantasies, now cold and dead,
The branches twisted with an agony within,
Reached out in silent torments to the void they were in.
In this sombre place, where hope had lost its way,
Each step echoed the grief of past times,
The path was dark, lined with ashes of despair,
Leading to a chasm of obliviousness laying bare.
In the crevasse of infinite melancholy, where abandonment reigned,
The heartbeats slowed, bound by invisible chains,
For in the land where wishes were left behind,
Only the sorrow of shadows could be found.
Esther Elizabeth Racah
