The magic foggy night became my night of dreams and fantastical visions. A bright, cloudy full moon stirred delightful emotions in my heart, cherishing a marvellous melancholy and sordid dismay. My attention was astonished by the sight of a stack of weathered antique books illuminated by a flamboyant candle beside a shining brass armillary sphere. The magic foggy night didn’t reveal its secrets, so I tried to talk to an esoteric book with celestial motifs, asking questions about that mysterious wisdom I was not supposed to know. As I proceeded in my questionable quest, I caught sight of a glowing glass lantern, while a solitary black raven perched on the weathered stone balcony railing amid climbing ivy. In solitude, I was resolute enough to disclose every aspect of my bizarre fate, which never failed to surprise me. As long as the magic foggy night made my imagination more unpredictable and hectic, it caused me to lose my ability to be comforted by my slumbering rest. Many doubts crossed my mind uncomfortably as I gasped uneasily whenever I realised that all I was glimpsing was a pristine daydream. It seemed that beauty was an ephemeral manifestation of my evanescent dreams. For too long I let my expectations fall into the abyss of decay, and in vain I waited for an impetuous storm to invite me into another realm. Nevertheless, the blemishes in my heart became engraved truths, which were too harsh to endure as I became more aware of the desolation of my existence. The magic foggy night had made me acquainted with nocturnal creatures and forbidden knowledge at the sight of splendour and magnificence. Alas, so abruptly time had passed, and oblivion claimed all those treasures, which hitherto had been my cherished belongings. Therefore, my flamboyant candle with the shining brass armillary sphere and weathered antique occult books together with the glowing glass lantern faded away into the void of the gloomy night. The solitary black raven flew high up into the sky until it lay beside the glistering stars. All that remained to be seen was the withered ivy and some relics of my whispers of despair. The magic foggy night had been just an illusion; a dream that didn’t accompany me for as long as I wished. The night’s deception was but an evanescence, vanishing into the darkness and leaving behind nothing but the bitter remembrance of a resplendence that had never truly been mine.
Elisabetta Esther
Tag: haunted atmosphere
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The Magic Foggy Night
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The Echoes of Dust
The echoes of dust rumbled in halls once grand,
Now only stripped of light,
Where shadows crept to drown the night,
The echoes of dust stirred, though no one spoke,
A distant memory awoke.The ancient tapestries, now frayed and torn,
Once told of splendour, now forlorn,
Their colours dulled by time’s cruel hand,
As dust engulfed this fallen land.The mirrors were cracked, no faces shown,
But whispers from the long ago,
Reflections of a life erased,
Now swallowed by the void’s embrace.The chandeliers no longer gleamed,
Their crystals dim, devoid of dreams,
They dangled low as if to fall,
A final toll within the hall.And in the air, a lingering chill,
A scent of dust that did not stand still,
It twisted and curled like faded smoke,
A phantom of the words unspoken.The noises of footsteps of forgotten years,
Once filled these halls with hopes and fears,
But now they faded, like fleeting breaths,
Replaced by stillness, cloaked in death.What ghosts remained, though none were seen,
In every crack, in every seam?
What tales were buried in the stone,
Of sorrows known and seeds unsown?Since time, it claimed both joy and woe,
And left behind a silent show,
Where every room, so cold, so vast,
Replayed the moments of the past.And here, within these walls of dust,
Where once was love, there was only rust,
The echoes of dust lingered, faint and frail,
A mournful song, a timeless wail.What secrets did this place once keep,
Now buried in its endless sleep?
For, in the end, all things must fade,
Forever, in deep shadows, the silence lay.
Esther Elizabeth Racah