Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: Haunted Dreams

  • The Castle Of Ghosts

    The Castle Of Ghosts

    The castle of ghosts was the fortress of my fears and anguish.
    The castle of ghosts also held my deepest terrors within its walls.
    It rose majestic and formidable on winter nights of solitude and storm,
    yet stood equally clear on silent, warm summer evenings.
    There was no season in which I could not glimpse it on the horizon—
    Each time I surrendered to my dreams
    and let my subconscious strike my heart,
    unlocking a secret chest filled with arcane mysteries
    and precious jewels.

    The voices I heard were those of malevolent spectres,
    intent on robbing me of my joy and my imagination.
    They sought to annihilate and utterly destroy
    all my dreams and visions—deemed by them mere madness—
    when in truth they were the very essence of my being,
    The essence of my heart, secretly nourishing my fantasies,
    those fantasies brimming with hope and desire,
    With stars and dawns yet to come.

    I could no longer entrust my secrets to any human soul,
    After all the harm had poured upon me like icy rain
    On a tempestuous night,
    while countless daggers and arrows pierced my heart and body—
    as if I were born and destined
    to a life woven with anguish, grief, powerlessness, and wretchedness.

    My heart was entangled in brambles,
    whose sharp thorns made it bleed perpetually,
    draining all the vital, creative energy I harboured within—
    leaving me a bloodless creature,
    devoid of impulses to guide me forward
    Along my dark and uncertain path,
    where every step was like a fragile, slender thread,
    ready to snap under its own frailty.

    Survived invisible storms,
    silent battles no one ever saw,
    I carried within me an armour of ash,
    hardened by time
    between fleeting shadows and light.

    The castle of ghosts was, in truth, the castle of my surviving selves—
    versions forged through countless traumas, abuses,
    and dreadful events that cast down my soul, my heart, and my body,
    to the point where I died many times over,
    only to be reborn as a new person each time.

    And now I had grown accustomed to losing all that I possessed
    only to gain something else—
    Something that would grant me another identity,
    another name,
    and another heart.
    Lisa

  • Mirrors And Dreams

    Mirrors And Dreams

    Mirrors and dreams appeared to me as I drank from the inception of the stormy night, where silence curdled into ink, and every word I swallowed appeared as a curse in my blood.

    The moon kissed my shadow, not with clemency but with remembrance. What I lost I buried in decay. What I loved I burned in darkness. Mirrors and dreams were just mere illusions.

    Silent visions visited me in my eternal nightmares as I never awakened from that realm of madness and phantasmagoria. In loneliness and unconsciousness, I wandered into the garden of desires.

    Untruthful chimaeras were my chaperones as I delighted myself in ethereal merriments and beauty. I lived in delusional fantasies as I forgot the feeling of fear.

    I only existed in poems and hymns to share my love and obsessions. Softly, the nocturnal breeze stroked my face, and I could hear a solemn and funereal melody.

    I felt invisible and ethereal, as if no mortal could have been able to perceive my presence. Indeed, I had become a spirit of the darkness; I was the shadow of my soul.

    Although my everlasting passion for the sublime and beauty never left my heart, I felt the aches and pangs of a withered flowered. Seeking stability in my rooted insanity, I had renounced the world of reality forever.

    The heartless fate had decided its decree to condemn me to the underworld and abandon every vestige of my past existence. Surrounded by mirrors and dreams, I surrendered to my hallucinations.

    The wraiths that chased me were the evocations of my terrible memories. They strived to cast a spell on me to constrain me in the dungeon of death and blood. Where no tree and no flower ever saw life.

    No mirror could recall me, no dream dared claim me.
    Elisabetta

  • Beneath The Hollow Moon

    Beneath The Hollow Moon

    Beneath the hollow moon, I wandered behind shadows
    It seemed like a dream but it felt very tangible
    It was an ethereal feeling mixed with physical perceptions
    In a secret garden made of dead trees and withered blossoms

    The ephemeral veil of the night enveloped me
    I was an invisible creature of the night
    Hiding from mortal sight and dreaming with open eyes
    My visions and hallucinations had become reality

    The haze of darkness cast a spell on me
    Odd spirits offered me to drink from a goblet of poison
    It was a magic potion of oblivion and poison
    Whilst I sipped it, I fell into a deep slumber

    I had forgotten my name and the place where I dwelled
    I had become a ghost and a shadow of the night
    Imperceptible even to the stars and the moon
    I was lost in the labyrinth of my own nightmares

    I waited not for my death because I was no longer a mortal
    The sorrow and distress of the human world didn’t touch me anymore
    I was the darkness and the night
    Empowered but still a captive of this arcane underworld

    Every part of my incorporeal body belonged to this dungeon of royal decadence
    A victim of haunting eerie dreams, I had no other place where to go
    It didn’t matter how long I could have screamed my memories
    Nothing changed, and my fate stayed unaffected

    I had traded my freedom for a kingdom of death and ethereal phantasmagoria
    Beneath the hollow moon, I wandered endlessly
    Seeking my lost heart in the maze of resentment and silver coffrets full of secrets
    And each sigh of mine transformed into a raven rose.

    A heart full of sorrow and a crown of black roses on my head
    Nothing else.
    Elisabetta

  • 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

  • Dead Longings

    Dead Longings

    Dead longings in the hollow of the heart,
    Where love once bloomed, and dreams fled,
    Now echoes fade, they fall apart,
    As night devours, the final thread.

    The garden where desires grew,
    Is withered, choked by endless frost,
    What once was bright, what once was true,
    Now whispers only of what’s lost.

    Forgotten are the hands that clung
    To tender hopes now turned to dust,
    The songs unsung, the hearts unstrung,
    All broken by the weight of rust.

    The wind that stirs the barren plain,
    Brings memories of joy undone,
    Dead longings, cold as rain,
    Now linger like the setting sun.

    No flame remains to pierce the dark,
    No fire to warm the frozen earth,
    For what once burned, a fleeting spark,
    Now dwells within the arms of death.

    The silence sings a mournful tune,
    Of distant days and vanished bliss,
    The stars that crowned the moon at noon
    Now, sleep within the cold abyss.

    What meaning lies in dreams long dead,
    In hopes that time has been stripped away?
    Dead longings, their stories fled,
    Now swallowed by the fading day.

    The house of longing, long entombed,
    Stands crumbled by the march of years,
    Its halls, once bright with life consumed,
    Now echo with forgotten fears.

    Upon the mantel, cold as stone,
    Lie relics of forgotten times,
    And dust has claimed what’s left alone,
    In silence thick as ancient crimes.

    No wind, no glimmer, no ardour remains,
    Just shadows of what used to be,
    A wasteland forged by grief’s cruel chains,
    Where once-beating hearts now cease to plea.

    Desire, now a ghostly call,
    Beckons from the tomb of the past,
    Faded desires feel their fall,
    A flame too weak, too dim to last.

    In haunted dreams, these longings stir,
    But never wake, they never rise,
    Dead longings, a fading blur,
    That lingers in forsaken skies.

    What’s left are shadows, dim and faint,
    Of passions now forever sealed,
    A heart that once could dream and paint,
    Now leaves no wound, no scar revealed.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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