Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: Gothic Poetry

  • 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

  • Shadows Over Me

    Shadows Over Me

    Shadows over me constantly
    Hunting me like terrifying ghouls
    Frightening me to the bones
    With their obsession

    I decided to abandon myself to the sense of defeat
    A defeat due to my cruel fate of being invisible and negligible
    Like a little sparkle of light destined to its descent into the abyss of darkness
    And so, that was me

    I wish extraordinary phantasmagorias would visit me in my dreams
    But even that was impossible
    So much was the misery of my realm of existence
    Being a negligible creature destined to the cold wind of indifference

    Even the possibility of falling in love with a chimaera and an illusion of mine was a failure
    Destined to ominous omens
    While the rays of the pale moonlight stroke my hair
    I descended again into an eternal and deadly slumber

    I couldn’t see anything but a total obscurity
    I couldn’t hear but an absolute silence
    Dim and dreadful shadows descended over me
    And I couldn’t react or move in this ocean of emptiness

    Defeated again and again by a sense of tragic frailty
    I became a shadow myself
    A shadow bound to a world of lies and deception
    With the inability to flee away
    Being hushed up in an abyss of oblivion

    Being forsaken and abandoned to loneliness
    I only found comfort in the numbness and lack of emotions
    After striving to scream
    I faded away like invisible stardust

    Shadows over me grasped my heart to tear it apart
    Feeling a fractured crystal in the inside
    I couldn’t feel any pang or fear because I was myself anguish and dread
    I became a ghost lingering in the world of death and darkness

    Ethereal as I was, I wandered like a frightful spirit of the night
    Chasing every spark of light I could seize, in vain
    For I was doomed to the realm of darkness and oblivion.
    Elisabetta

  • The Chains Of The Past

    The Chains Of The Past

    The chains of the past captivated me
    Placing me down on the cold soil of the garden of tears
    A place where no hope or wish was granted
    A dungeon of anguish and dismay that became my eternal realm

    An initiation ritual pierced my heart and made it bleed
    My blood nourished the flowers of betrayal and deception
    until they drained me of all strength
    Leaving me fainting on the cold soil among thorns and sharp stones

    Suddenly I felt that all my fears left my heart
    And I became the representation of numbness and apathy
    My body was as bloodless as an inanimate pebble
    Silent like a grave and dark as the night

    My soul parted whispering a farewell
    My heart was pale as ashes
    Every spark of curiosity and liveliness faded away
    Leaving me entombed in a deep slumber from which I would never awaken

    The chains of the past were a noose around my neck
    Drops of poison were falling on my face from the fountain of oblivion
    Longings and regrets entwined a chain of tears and blood around my heart
    A stupor was in my mind and weakness overwhelmed me

    My memories from the past became my hunting nightmares
    I couldn’t escape from them and hence I was lying helpless in the cold soil of the garden of death
    All I could hear were soft sighs and cries of despair
    Underneath the immense darkness of the night sky

    A curtain of haze blurred my blank gaze
    As the wind wove moans into shadows
    No dawn would ever find my eternal dusk
    No voice would unsettle my spectral silence

    Unable to find my way out of misery and sorrow
    I descended into the deepest abyss of darkness
    Becoming an unknown wraith in this garden of death
    Where even time had turned to dust
    And then only echoes of forsaken laments remained.
    Elisabetta

  • Lost In My Thoughts

    Lost In My Thoughts

    Lost in my thoughts like a leaf is carried away by the wind
    In my garden of forbidden fruits and poisonous flowers
    Noticing all the colours and scents in their variety
    As I approach them, they reveal their secrets to me

    Memories stroke me like soft petals
    While I dream about the infinity of the universe
    As I explore the city streets among light and darkness
    Contemplating the sublimity of the stars

    In my loneliness, my only companion is my shadow, following me everywhere I go
    And I slowly realised that all my existence had been an illusion
    A delusional dream that enclosed me in a crystal cage
    And enslaved by my obsessions, I strive to survive

    I always find myself thinking about him, even though it has been a while since I last saw him
    His smile and voice made me melt like a snowflake under the sun of his beautiful soul
    Crying because I miss him, although I don’t know him
    Being so far yet so close, I surrender to my senses, bedazzled by love and frightened by the unknown

    I feel like a red flame bird soaring high in the sky
    Reaching for the stars in a firmament of diamonds and corals
    Only to fall down into the dim chasm of my anguish
    Where all my teardrops had created a blustery ocean

    My name is carved in every star as soon as I touch them
    And lost in my thoughts, I wish that my desires may be realised
    Delusional and silly, I’ve always been waiting for blessings and happiness
    Although all that I could see was an empty desert of sad desolation

    Remaining awake and dazzled, I try to realise that all my existence didn’t make any sense
    My unique hope relies on my dreams and illusions
    Therefore, I feel aghast by my disdainful fears and insecurities
    While I get lost in my dangerous thoughts.
    Elisabetta

  • The Dark Vault

    The Dark Vault

    The dark vault of death and desires was the hidden alcove where all the dreams became flowers of death.

    Desires painted the antique wallpaper in red blood, casting a spell on whoever dared to dream in a deadly slumber trapped in those walls.

    No light could have pierced the darkness that ruled that niche, not even the silvery moonlight, so shy to surrender to all that gloominess.

    Far away from every kind of imagination, desires, and dreams were nothing else than a beautiful aspect of death, with the only purpose of obliterating everything.

    No dream would have ever come true; instead, they would manifest the only final aim: the perpetual and endless destruction of all that was pure and magnificent.

    The dark vault was a mysterious crypt that existed only in a chimerical realm where time and space made no sense.

    The walls of this eldritch place were adorned with mirrors of betrayal, their shattered surfaces still gleaming.

    Each fragment reflected only the phantoms of lost expectancies and fractured souls. Every sliver concealed a story of despair, hissing in the silent domain of this dark vault.

    In the heart of this chasm stood a grave of glooms carved from obsidian and veined with crimson ichor.

    A tome rested upon the grave; its pages were inked with the anguish of a thousand forgotten souls.

    To read from this book meant to be bound to the vault forever, chained by the weight of desires turned to ash.

    Sobs crept as if disembodied voices murmured secrets of aggrieved existences. They wove around the corners like the Hydra, promising happiness and pleasure but delivering only torments.

    They unveiled tales of love turned decayed, of corrupted ambitions, of defiled innocence—all reduced to hollow vestiges of what could have existed.

    The darkness surrounded everything as a cruel reminder that no dream could ever flourish in such a place.

    Those naive dreamers who stumbled into this dark vault were ensnared by its grim allure. Their desires, once flamboyant and passionate, were siphoned away, leaving their spirits barren and their forms reduced to statues of cinders.

    These uncautious wanderers remained permanently frozen in agony, outstretching their arms and striving to seize dreams that were lost forever.

    The vault itself seemed like a living creature, feeding on the despair it provoked and expanding its labyrinth routes with each new prey.

    New grotesque chambers unfurled like malignant blooms, adorned with relics of devastated hearts and the skeletal relics of every aborted dream.

    There was no escape in this wicked vault, for it was an eternally cursed and tragic realm—a liminal space that swallowed all, reducing everything to echoes in its mournful symphony.

    The dark vault was the embodiment of the inevitable, where every dream, every desire, every spark of life came to die.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Sad Dreams

    Sad Dreams

    Sad dreams in the middle of a sleepless night,
    When silence ruled the realm of sounds,
    And the darkness was the only companion in the nocturnal fate,
    Faraway from tranquillity and joy.

    Sad thoughts provoked teardrops falling like a nighttime rain shower,
    Lost dreams became remembrances of chimaeras echoing their defeat.

    In an eternal dreamlike night, the clouds of illusions hid the pale countenance of the sombre moon,
    Which was jealous of the gleaming happiness of the stars,
    And the infinite void stared at the sky with a sense of wonder and uncertainty.

    Visions that belonged to an imaginary universe appeared like phantoms of desires and passions that were never meant to exist in the real world.

    The infinite nothingness concealed enigmas with sorrow and dread,
    Every reminiscence became a shadow, and every hope was extinguished by the coldness of the emptiness.

    Vast and oppressive utopias were the domains where the soul wandered desperately,
    Seeking consolation from the decayed ruins of broken oaths.

    And even in these forsaken lands, glooms clung to every dream,
    Betrayal etched itself into the fabric of love and devotion,
    Into a labyrinth of despair, where fragments of failure carved their mark,
    Souls were bound to an endless cycle of anguish and regret.

    Dreamers were burdened by the consequence of invisible chains of betrayal and disloyalty,
    They moved as though wading through rivers of ink and sand.
    The stars dimmed their gleam, offering no guidance,
    While the moon turned its pale face away in quiet disdain.

    The storm’s gusts carried the lament of epochs past,
    Their wails pierced the ethereal veil of endless nights.

    Are dreams supposed to perish, or do they live on in the dark, forsaken and unseen?
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Dungeon of Sadness

    The Dungeon of Sadness

    The dungeon of sadness was a trap of beauty and delight,
    Luring dreams and visions to embark on a journey in its labyrinthine trails,
    Until they were soaked in sorrow and grief,
    Like dead leaves trapped in a swamp.

    A suffocating heft bore down, laden with despair,
    Wrapping around like an overwhelming shroud.
    The walls wept, their stone faces slick
    With tears of ages long forgotten.

    A faint glow oozed through the fractures,
    Not of longing but of some unearthly dread,
    Casting shapes that jigged like phantoms,
    Teasing the lost who wandered within.

    Corroded chains clung to the slammer’s bones,
    Each link was an eerie monument to captive dreams.
    The silence wailed louder than screams,
    Like oppression depressing the weary senses.

    This labyrinth of grief and distress became a realm of nightmares,
    Where there was no escape but only deception.
    The sky became overcrowded with ominous clouds,
    Which smothered all the luminaries striving to gleam through the gloom.

    A mist of languid sorrow and melancholy steered like a lugubre presage,
    Hope was a fleeting spectre whose whispers drowned in the ocean of oblivion.
    The mirror of torments reflected the anguish of each soul,
    And all the joy and light were depleted in the dungeon of sadness.

    The maw of despair devoured the time,
    And its beauty lay in the perfection of its torments,
    Such a cruel art that was engraved in endless suffering dreams,
    A lament that echoed eternally in the void.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Mansion of Anguish

    The Mansion of Anguish

    The mansion of anguish was filled with flowers of dread,
    Sighs echoed in each empty chamber like merry butterflies,
    The scent of betrayal penetrated every crevice of this eerie dwelling,
    As a consequence of broken vows and promises.

    The name of love has been desecrated, and love itself has been obliterated,
    In an extinguished fire, vestiges of mirth were lying,
    Buried underneath a stack of piles of ashes and blood,
    And the pain was carved on each stone.

    Hushed sobs created a fountain of dismay and grief,
    Where solitary souls had the habit of indulging secretly,
    Waiting for their lovers who were never supposed to come back,
    In a frolic of delusional hallucinations and cruel fate.

    In the middle of the night, farewell left their signs on the decayed walls and shattered mirrors,
    Leaving mere remembrances of broken hearts and aborted dreams,
    Beneath the obsessive moonlight, whose frantic light gleams stroke perpetually the dead flowers in the garden,
    While this realm of decay sparkled magnificently in all its darkness.

    Repetitive laments bloomed like blossoms of death,
    Since the mansion of anguish and sorrow emerged as a monument to decadence,
    And every star hid itself from the insistent stare of the moon’s pale and haunting gaze,
    Shadows of forsaken and lost lovers lingered, whispering fragments of unfulfilled desires and regrets into the hollow aura.

    Each murmur was enthralled by the walls that held infinite teardrops of agony,
    And every silent portrait, dimmed by epochs of neglect, seemed to weep silently in unison with the affliction around them.
    The desolate wind sighed through all the halls, shallowing the ruins of destroyed trinkets that once held sentimental bargains.
    The mansion of anguish became a despondent residence engulfed in an eternal night.
    It stood as a forgotten memorial to love’s betrayal and decay, where beauty had endlessly perished, leaving only a ghostly vestige in its haunted place.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Ravine of Fire

    The Ravine of Fire

    The ravine of fire was a delightful realm of vexation,
    Where flames writhed, ablaze in fervent contemplation.
    Ashes floated like black petals fallen by lost desires,
    Feeding the fire, stoking ancient pyres of lust.

    Ghouls danced in ephemeral flames, wreathed in smoky lace,
    Their countenances twisted a mournful, silent grace.
    Each blazing ember of passion pulsed, a heartbeat in the dark,
    Casting crimson secrets, leaving magical glimmers.

    Old iniquities were set alight by every blaze of obscenities,
    And remembrances were distorted in this feverish feast.
    Grief and sorrow strived to obliterate every dream within this ravine of fire,
    While a haunting dirge carried on the sulfurous breeze.

    Rivers of flame crawled deep through the earth’s cracked veins,
    Licking at scars with lust, basking in charred remnants.
    Beneath the molten tides lay arcane legends lastingly kept,
    Where invisible despair and forfeited fantasies slumbered.

    Bones of a remote past were forged anew,
    Burning bright but hidden from mortal view.
    In this seething realm, regret found its roots,
    In the eternal embrace of a fiery death.

    The sky above, a shroud of sullen grey,
    Held back the dawn, denying night’s decay.
    Time was a prisoner to the ravine’s cruel jest,
    An endless descent into a smouldering rest.

    In the abyss of fire, only darkness and obsession,
    Hope was obliterated, and shadows dictated their decrees.
    A kingdom where the gloomy sky was untouched by morning skies,
    And the stars were extinguished forever.

    The ravine of fire was an infinite maw,
    Consuming fragments of what once was the ordinary certitude.
    Torments blossomed like exquisite blossoms through the mist of smoke,
    As silence tangled with every crevice and choke.

    Gleaming leaves were hovering in agony, both timeless and keen,
    Thorns covered every surface like a cruel and enchanting mesh.
    A sombre choir rose from the tumultuous chasm below,
    Like a chant of despair where no light dared to proceed.

    Crimson rivers wept down as if to mourn,
    For aborted dreams and decayed illusions,
    Condemned to be trapped in this doomed realm,
    Where unaware dreamers were lured by the ravine’s relentless lustre.

    This utopian land was forsaken by all but dread,
    Where phantoms of yesteryear were eternally bound,
    Bound to flames that did not warm but only kill,
    A ravine of fire where everything was swallowed into the shadows and eternal darkness.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Magic Enchantment

    The Magic Enchantment

    The magic enchantment bound dreams and desires for eternity,
    Upon a cloudless night sky with a pale and trembling moon,
    A blanket of stars lay spread in all its splendour.
    Whispers wove through shadows, haunting and forlorn,

    Each luminary was a silent witness to secrets eternally concealed,
    While a gloomy mist rose in veils, gliding slowly in disguise of ghostly shapes,
    Tormented ghouls swirled in the midnight air,
    Bound by threads of fate to linger forever there.

    The trees were dreadfully hollow, and their branches clawed and twisted,
    Compelled into a timeless dance of sorrow and despair,
    While winds brought fragments of lost and forgotten cries,
    With grievous tones being mournfully entangled by the midnight’s snare.

    Shivers ran deep through the hidden secrecies beneath the cold soil,
    As though even stones kept memories of fear,
    Bound within this dusk of dreams and ancient spells,
    Where shadows reigned, and haunting truths were undisclosed.

    The magic enchantment transformed the whole realm of dreams into a garden of stone flowers and thorns.
    Dead leaves became crystal gems, and ponds altered to iced mirrors.
    Shadows and lights danced at the sound of sighs of grief,
    While no mortal silhouette emerged in that surreal realm.

    A soft breeze of melancholy moved through the stone flowers and crystal leaves,
    Leaving nothing but an ethereal glimmer on their shining surfaces.
    Under the sallow cloak of enchantment,
    Everything became frozen as if held in an endless wail, unseen yet perceived.

    A silence steeped in sorrow descended like an eerie and faint brittle glass,
    And the spectral realm lay draped in ancient spells’ silent pelt,
    Where no dawn would rise, nor any sunrise had ever dwelt.
    In this eternal midnight, the dimness fed upon memories of the past.

    Remnants of dreams were recast by the darkness,
    Lifeless blooms whispered tales of love turned to ash,
    And hope was but a withered wraith bound to linger,
    Caught within the spell that destiny would not have severed.

    And though no mortal hand could trace this ghostly realm,
    The wonder of this magic enchantment was bound and will bind all dreams forever.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah