Fragments of vanished dreams were hidden in my secret garden, where I passed my nights crying bitter tears of grief and frenzy. Without a doubt, I was not surprised when the decrepit windows shattered as the impetuous wind made them sway in a rhythm that reminded me of a funereal elegy. The ancient clocks of my antique manor ticked each minute as if I were on the verge of waiting for some spectral visit to announce me dreadful revelations. And so the nights passed although I didn’t notice how fast time was proceeding since the day I lost all my cherished treasures, of which all that remained now were fragments of vanished dreams. Not enough tears could express the devastation devouring my heart viciously with a destructive passion. Affliction tried to softly soothe me as if the only way to embrace sorrow was to become despair myself with all the dismay I could possess. I wandered aimlessly near the small lake, which mirrored my mean-spirited mansion beneath the veiled countenance of the moon while hiding behind a shroud of dismal clouds. I desired so badly to smell the black flowers of vengeance, which adorned my garden once upon a time. Tired and torn my heart was aching with the utmost distress in the middle of a gathering of ghouls, which chaperoned me slowly like shadows from the Otherworld. No longer was I waiting for fate to alter the course of tumultuous events that ricocheted through my existence. My imagination was leading my yearnings astray into the abyss of oblivion, so discouraged by a chaotic mess of unfair fears. Alas, without any hesitation, I dared to attempt to free myself from that grip of oppression, but every endeavour of mine was in vain. Nothing had remained in the sacred place of my secret garden but fragments of vanished dreams, of which only memories faded by the mists of time remained to me.
Elisabetta Esther
Tag: grief
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Fragments Of Vanished Dreams
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The Restlessness Of The Night
The restlessness of the night never left my quiet chamber adorned with ancient mirrors and candles extinguished by the freezing wind of the darkness.
The silence helped my nightmares discourage my heart from holding dear its long-coveted desires.
Henceforth, I tried not to panic when I realised that I couldn’t find any image of myself in the mirrors of my antique manor.
Not even a portrait was there and each time I tried to perceive my countenance, all I could discover was a box full of sand and decay.
The hours sang an elegy for the passing of the night that was infinite and determined to rule hegemony in the realm of my bizarre fantasies and odd revelations.
Magic dreams were only faraway illusions that had been bestowed to me once again only to be left in the abyss of despair with nothing but my vest full of sand and decay.The restlessness of the night offered me the goblet of eternal torment, alluring me with fairy tales and foolish legends.
I wished to become an invisible creature of the gloomy night, however, I could do nothing but observe my name inscribed on every wall and book that I had encountered.
No importance was given to my will since the day I was born beneath the hollow trees of dismay.
The stars manifested their disregard for me, leaving me in my senseless loneliness, at the mercy of the raging storms that would have swept me away.
In vain, I claimed my liberty from that misfortune, but they came to claim me and all that once was mine, the ghouls from the archaic world of my past misadventures.
Perhaps I could have forgotten the sensations of delight and gentle euphoria.
The restlessness of the night had become the portal to my agony and everlasting grief, which never abandoned my aching heart.
Elisabetta Esther -

Waiting For My Dreams
Waiting for my dreams to wither like dry flowers
Constantly sinking into the oblivion of sadness and dizziness
Unaware of what could happen to my soul
Having lost every hope to save my dreams
Finding my sweet haven in my darkest grief
Slowly avoiding thinking and surrendering to the course of my vicious fate
I let the ocean waves swallow me into the chasms of unconsciousness
To avoid seeing the reflection of my memories in mirrors of shady dismay
The silence of the night lulled me to a deep slumber where I finally could feel peace and gaiety
My idle heart became a frozen stone full of sand and dust
Whilst I wandered in the desolate forest of my fears
Waiting for my dreams to be my only consolation
For I was aware of the evanescence of the stars gleaming in the night sky
Indeed, every single anguish of mine became a tiny leaf that the cold breeze lifted away from my gaze
So quickly was flowing my existence like a tumultuous river that I lost the sense of time
And I remained therefore languid in a garden without flowers or trees
A garden of darkness and shadows where no mortal could find me
My foremost hideaway in which I could flee the hideous threats from the world of reality
I didn’t pay attention to the consequences of my enchanted illusions
Dread and cynicism accompanied me at every step as unwelcome and unavoidable guests
Secrets were locked within me and only nonsense was guiding me in the eternal gloom of my seclusion
In vain I strove to reach out to the moonlight
Nevertheless, I had been cast away too far
Surrounded by nothing but loneliness and bleakness
I was left crying tears made of madness and turmoil.
Elisabetta Esther -

An Evanescent Bliss
An evanescent bliss came to me in my nocturnal dreams. It was like a bright flame that burned my heart, and I cherished it as a precious jewel. Although I knew it was just an ephemeral fantasy, it was my only treasure to live for. Until the day when my mirrors fractured, and truth became a deception.
So much dismay was inside my frail heart that I couldn’t realise I was still alive. Nevertheless, I wasn’t able to admit my loss. I was still willing to embrace illusions and to ignore forgery. And, at the end, I saw everything that was lying behind my imagination.
In a decrepit and dusty attic, I found chests of ambrosial delights laced with poison. They were there, on purpose, just to attract attention, but their intent was lethal. They were glad to offer delightful winks of bliss and joy in exchange for souls.
I lost my euphoria, and every thrill of ecstasy faded away. My mirrors revealed hidden secrets to my heart. I had to encounter my dreads, and the truth I didn’t wish to disclose. Candies tasted bitter and toxic. My heart was tainted with venom and revenge. Turmoil devoured my heart and turned me into a scarlet rose.
My misery transformed into chaos and resentment. I embodied the dismay that enclosed me. I became a victim of my own naivety, and it was too late to remove those toxic emotions from my heart. What had teased me at first was now haunting me nastily.
I had to touch the emptiness to feel the darkness inside me. Dreadful enchantments enticed me like familiar spells. I sank into the abyss of sadness, desiring to become eternal and infinite. Grief was engraved in my heart, and I completely forgot every kind of evanescent bliss.
Elisabetta Esther -

The Cemetery Of Fairies
The cemetery of fairies
lay before me
In all its solemnity
and hidden silence,
where I sought refuge
In my usual nocturnal flight
from the nightmares—
those sovereigns
of my heart.Lay before me
In all its solemnity
and hidden silence,
where I sought refuge
In my usual nocturnal flight
from the nightmares—
those sovereigns
of my heart.Star dust was falling over me
like a midnight rain
In a winter storm,
cold and glimmering,
silent as a magic spell,
settling upon my hair
like an ethereal veil
woven from arcane secrets.A shroud of solitude wrapped around me
like a protective barrier,
rendering me invisible to others—
And yet, at the same time,
It made me a prisoner
of a realm I could no longer resist belonging to.The pain I had always felt—
It was like a kind of splinter
pierced into my heart,
one to which I had grown numb and accustomed.
So many sorrows had scattered
across my brief existence,
leaving no trace among mortals,
like a tiny, insignificant creature
adrift in an immense ocean
of infinite, scattered universes—
unconnected, and forgotten.My silence was heavy with resentment,
disillusionment, despair, and utter isolation.
I stood within the cemetery of fairies—
not the fairies of storybooks,
But the ones who embodied my abandoned dreams,
shattered and buried
In a vast expanse I called a graveyard,
Though in truth it existed only within my imagination.
The scene before me was grim and mournful,
for it mirrored my shadowed soul—
a soul steeped in torment
and numbed by the weight of impossibility,
numbed by the stark realisation
that I would never reach
those long-yearned-for desires
that had once set my heart alight.Sweet should have been the tender memories of my life—
Yet I called them the ghosts of the past,
for they haunted and tormented my sleep,
filling my nights with unrest.
In those troubled hours,
My heart was relentlessly torn apart
by the spears of demons
Who, with dreadful solemnity,
invaded my chamber unbidden.
Elisabetta




