Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: haunting beauty

  • I Live Of Instants

    I Live Of Instants

    I live of instants that become memories
    Dying in the dark of the mind
    Whenever I encounter a flower, a tree or a cloud
    Slowly melting under the burden of my passions
    I become another drop of a rainstorm that flows through myself

    Glowing stars are witnesses of the insanity of my own dreams
    Faraway chimaeras of a fate that fell apart
    Like a fractured crystal shattered into an infinity of burning flames
    Softly waiting to fade away and never reappear
    So, I do feel the fragility of my essence in the vast darkness that is striving to swallow me

    I acquiesce in the light of solitude and silence
    The abyss of nothingness striving to swallow me
    In its limitless gorge where no sparkle of hope is allowed to be
    And the ephemeral sense of existence is obliterated
    In the magnificent realm of decay

    I live of instants that become a part of me
    In a nostalgic and sweet decadence dwelling in me
    A suspended flower without roots or ground to rely on
    Lonely in the cold atmosphere of my shell
    Where I will always belong for eternity

    I’ve always lived in a surreal reality
    Neither dead nor alive
    Being in abeyance
    Surrounded by dead stories
    And death and blood

    Life was fading into a chamber full of dust of decay
    Sweet decadence was my exquisite dream and comfort
    In a world where I perpetually faded away into wonders and nightmares
    In the illusion of change eventually, embracing the ordinary and expected
    My heart was pounding because of the absence of a thrill

    Sweet was the slumber that wrapped me
    In a celestial aura of avoidance and devastation
    Where all my senses were betrayed by blades and burns
    Embracing sorrow and misery
    Ignored by most as I was an invisible ghost

    I live of instants and memories hidden by the darkness of my soul
    A kingdom of obscurity and decadence
    Where I’m the only beloved ruler
    Gasping and signing once I’ve lost all my tears in the affliction of the night.
    Elisabetta

  • The Ocean of Gloominess

    The Ocean of Gloominess

    The ocean of gloominess stretched before me and beyond any imagination, displaying all its magnificence and supremacy.

    Fears and insecurities became ominous shadows that grew bigger, like intense storms dragging me deep into the abyss of oblivion.

    Freezing was the wind that embraced me with its long, spiky arms like a sweet and sour betrayal that ripped my heart.

    I would embrace non-existence rather than existence as a valley of distress and pain where I don’t find any place of joy and peace.

    Not relying on trust anymore, searching desperately for the truth buried underneath, I laid down on the cold soil, waiting for my eternal slumber to drag me away.

    Teardrops covered my face, freezing under the shapes of crystals and gems, now that nothing would have remained.

    And so, I became a part of that frozen realm where all the trees and flowers were made of insensitive frost.

    Not feeling anything anymore was my source of delight and amusement. I strived to forget all the memories as if I really never existed.

    The ocean of gloominess enticed me with its mystery and illusions, its sovereignty and cruelty.

    The nothingness lured me over and over again till I fell into the snare of the void where I coveted to finish like an ethereal dream of mine.

    Hence, I fainted again in a deadly slumber, a permanent one from which I couldn’t wake anymore, becoming just a frail, glimmering snowflake.

    Fleeting moments became remembrances to be obliterated like sand devoured by the wind. And dread overcame every little sparkle of mirth, leaving me adrift in the eternity of despair.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • An Ephemeral Sense of Oblivion

    An Ephemeral Sense of Oblivion

    An ephemeral sense of oblivion descended upon the decadent realm of darkness,
    As an ocean of sorrow and grief dissolved into the dim night sky,
    And stars were obliterated by the obscurity of the infinite void.

    Feeling like a tiny flower in the immensity of nightfall,
    I sensed the vast darkness of the sea claiming my soul,
    Unveiling remembrances as haunting, shadowed visions of my past.

    Feeling no fear, I wandered into the unknown depths of the night,
    My thoughts were ensnared by ghouls of the past,
    Catching glimpses of horrible, ambiguous visions.

    Bleeding teardrops descended from my heart,
    As awkward chaos consumed my mind,
    Drowning me in the vast ocean of memories.

    My sacrifices lay shattered, lost to dust and decay,
    In a slumber, I fell like a flower falling into a lake,
    Unaware of the consequences of my anguish.

    Dreaming about unrealistic expectations,
    Beneath the shadows of darkness, fears and vulnerabilities blossomed in a garden of brutality and chaos,
    Inside a labyrinth woven with twisted roots of dread.

    When the night disclosed secrets, they became venomous and sweet,
    While grotesque truths appeared beyond mirrors of hidden torments,
    Shards of fractured loves were scattered and jagged in the void.

    Through the dark maze, I staggered, each step sinking deeper,
    Each gloom revealed wounds that festered beneath my fragile longings,
    And despair suffocated me.

    A faint light emerged, flickering like a dying flame at the mercy of the winds,
    Pulling me closer with its eerie and unyielding spell,
    With the only promise that I was going to face oblivion’s embrace.

    The stars had vanished after they were swallowed whole by the void,
    Leaving me adrift in the profound ocean of my tacit dreads,
    And finally, the night consumed me entirely.

    An ephemeral sense of oblivion fractured my heart,
    Until I became nothing more than an erased memory,
    Forever lost in the decadent realm of darkness.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Realm of Dust and Decay

    The Realm of Dust and Decay

    The realm of dust and decay was the place where I’d been hiding all my life, hopeless and devoid of love.

    A frozen spiderweb trapped me like a doomed dungeon full of wickedness, oppression and violence.

    Fate hasn’t been fair enough to grant me mirth and tranquillity but instead reserved me a prison of decay and lifeless despair.

    Invisible chains of control and oppression were twisted around my body, making me wish to fall into the abyss of death.

    The nights were too long to keep my sanity alive, long enough to remember that I was alive.

    Every night was too long to endure the chaos inside myself.

    Like a storm, each day was a struggle to keep me alive without any wisdom and future sight.

    Dreaming about oblivion and escape to a realm of dreams and illusions.

    Dreams and fantastic tales were the only evasions from my reality that displayed brutal colours among the tedious rituals of phoney perfection.

    Having lost my essence and my innocence, I became a non-living creature.

    Believing that couldn’t be more different, the reality surrounding me like an ominous dark cloud.

    I fell into the abyss of self-obliteration and resignation, swallowed by an undesirable fate.

    Living a life at the mercy of the winds and storms.

    Feeling a tiny flower floating in the vast ocean of the unknown.

    Mad nightmares were constant visions, like surrealist paintings of despair.

    My secrets became my only identity, kept hidden like a treasure.

    As a living paradox and contradiction, I was just part of the realm of dust and decay.

    And there was no escape from the labyrinth that held me captive, like a bird stripped of its wings.

    And, as if in an absolute dream, I longed only to vanish into the infinite darkness, never to emerge again.
    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

  • Frantic Pangs of Dismay

    Frantic Pangs of Dismay

    Frantic pangs of dismay ensnared every passionate heart,
    Once it became trapped inside the abyss of solitude and delusions,
    Still and frozen was this garden of sorrow and grief,
    Where for each buried heart, a crimson rose arose in all its exquisite magnificence.

    No mortal could have dared inside this overwhelming realm of death and love,
    Whose soil was soaked in blood and betrayal,
    The blood of those unfortunate who fell prey to the magic spell of poisonous passions in the midst of secrets and arcane legends.

    Veiled in shadows lay the remnants of ephemeral oaths,
    Of lovers who dared, then despaired and dissolved in mist,
    Bound in the haunting chasms of this forsaken land,
    Where fervent vows were carved on stones now cracked and senseless.

    Each petal seemed to bleed, crimson-stained in sombre grace,
    An epitaph for souls who perished in love’s ruthless snare,
    While moonlight cast its pallid glow upon forgotten graves,
    And silence reigned, a ghostly song for all who’d met their doom.

    Beneath the roots, relics of devotion lingered motionless dead,
    In twisted knots and burning sighs, entwined in cursed despair.
    In this metaphysical world, phantoms of love and ardour abode, entangled in spectral chains,
    Each sigh came to be an eerie fragment, each stroke a haunting whisper.

    In the midst of the darkness, mist and hollow cries wandered, seeking the warmth of life yet condemned to eternal frost.
    Whilst roses gleamed in shades both decadent and dark,
    Fed by the remnants of hearts broken in bygone epochs.
    Each bloom was a monument to the souls who could not part,
    Bound by longings that left them to decay yet never fade.

    Frantic pangs of dismay flourished in that desolate garden under the weeping moon.
    A tragic fate was but just a warning and a memory of love’s cruel masquerade,
    While beauty buds, yet fester, lurked in the infinite and endless void.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Anguish of the Night

    The Anguish of the Night

    The anguish of the night descended softly like a dreadful rain,
    On the valley of solitude and decay where doom held its domain.

    Wonders and death were all there waiting for the definitive end,
    While the stars grieved for aborted dreams that were never meant to be.

    Trust was fractured into thousands of fragments,
    Like a broken mirror in the middle of a dark chamber.

    The disclosed longings of a life already gone were kept secret,
    Inside a treasure chest in the abyss of the dream world.

    Feelings of melancholy and sorrow overwhelmed the frozen midnight,
    Transforming into a gloomy haze, making trembling every blossom.

    In every secret garden of roses, the only light allowed to penetrate was the moonlight,
    At the dreary sound of ghosts swirling in an eerie dance.

    Faraway from the brutal reality, the stars gleamed an invisible pale blue light,
    In a firmament crowded with clouds and nightmares.

    Longings and clouds entangled like tales of forgotten despair,
    Cherished treasures vanished into the gloomy and tranquil aura.

    Everything was trapped in the grasp of the midnight’s wintry clasp,
    While spectres lingered, haunting memories no dawn could ever have obliterated.

    In the hollow abyss of the misty vale, ancient trees wept alone,
    Their gnarled branches twisted like distress cast in weathered stone.

    The winds bore laments, carrying enigmas from times of oblivion,
    Each note became a mourning hymn, a dirge too exquisite to last.

    An owl hooted softly from a distant, forsaken tower,
    Its cry was a reminder of life’s fleeting, fragile power.

    Every petal quivered under the weight of forfeited hopes and fears,
    Dripping with the morning dew that consorted with unseen tears.

    Beneath this grave night’s sorrowful veil, even phantoms wept,
    While faded spirits drifted, tethered to dreams they could not abide
    Under the spell of the anguish of the night.
    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

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