Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: idyll

  • The Portal To Emptiness

    The Portal To Emptiness

    The portal to emptiness was waiting for me
    In hesitation and doubt, I didn’t feel any comfort
    I didn’t trust what I was seeing or hearing
    All I could be assured of was a feeling of uncertainty

    It was as if I was living one of my several lives
    Foolishly embracing my madness with such joy
    Even the wind was terrified by me in its impetuosity
    Being myself, a little tornado of intense emotions

    Left by myself in my extreme solitude
    I sought refuge from my overwhelming grief
    Grief towering over me like a monumental demon
    Making me an insolent creature of the night

    Chasing darkness, I have finally found myself deep
    On the ocean floor of my imagination
    In my realm of wonders and chimeras
    I desired to find my utopic idyll

    My dreams touched me night and day
    All over my body like soft strokes
    Fantasies pierced my heart making it bleed
    With their sweet and sharp daggers

    I became a crimson rose, with all my petals tainted by blood
    And pointed thorns as powerful as diamond gems
    Although I was crying for my freedom from my roots and cold soil
    I had to surrender to my slavery

    And I could only dream over and over again without hope
    I cried and sobbed like a winter storm
    And I felt needles stabbing all my petals
    Arrows of anguish and awareness of my impending decay

    Nothing anymore could have released me from my huge distress and dismay
    I was merely a red rose and nothing more
    One of the several red roses of an ordinary city garden
    Nothing anymore could have been important to me

    The portal to emptiness was in front of me
    And now, I was made of dust and decay
    Decadence was my name and like a butterfly pinned on a wall
    I remained still as a crystal rose standing on a barren earth.
    Elisabetta

  • An Ephemeral Idyll

    An Ephemeral Idyll

    An ephemeral idyll in twilight’s veil,
    Where the thorns of desires pierced the night,
    A fleeting glimpse of beauty frail,
    Was lost among the shadows’ lair.

    The roses bloomed with bloodstained hue,
    Their petals fell like crimson rain,
    Dew-kissed thorns that pierced anew,
    As night descended, devouring day.

    A lover’s touch, so ghostly cold,
    Clung to the echoes left behind,
    Their sighs, a tale once brightly told,
    Faded like mist in moonlight’s bind.

    The willows wept by waters dark,
    Their branches sighed with ancient grief,
    The stars above, distant sparks,
    Were dimmed by time, a cruel thief.

    A shattered mirror cast no light,
    Its broken shards, a jagged fate,
    Reflected the face of endless nights,
    The past and the present—disintegrated.

    And in this fictitious realm, where phantoms eerily relished,
    A feast unveiled, both endearing and grim,
    For beauty, fleeting as it was, soon vanished,
    A fading hymn at twilight’s brim.

    A voice called out from realms unknown,
    A murmur laced with sorrow’s heft,
    And though the heart remained a stone,
    It shivered at the hint of death.

    The dawn arrived, too pale, too late,
    To chase away that mournful dream,
    For joy and sorrow shared their fate,
    Entwined within the midnight scheme.

    The petals decayed, the stars were gone,
    The lover’s ghost, now lost to time,
    An idyll lived, then swiftly drawn,
    Into a dusk without a rhyme.

    And in that hour, so cold, so still,
    The roses sighed, then faded away,
    An ephemeral idyll was killed,
    And darkness claimed its final prey.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • A Frail And Lonely Dismay

    A Frail And Lonely Dismay

    A frail and lonely dismay of the night
    Tinged like a tiny soul of light
    At the edges of the universe
    Waiting for its memorable sight
    Standing alone in a silent deadlock
    The heart that seems so close to being so sad
    There is no way more and our lives and joy
    Never begin what is about never to die
    Love is created as an eternal wisdom

    A frail and lonely dismay
    In silent long-moving years
    Made of pains that cannot be revealed
    Would it be a dream to lose?
    A utopia that the world has never known
    I had looked back in stillness
    The quietness of some tree
    Where all the dreams abound
    And idyll will never cease to succumb
    To the grief and solitude

    A frail and lonely dismay
    I’ll never know who I was
    But only the sadness I feel
    And where are my vestiges
    To be hurled away in the cold blast
    Again and nevermore
    A sudden fear reappears
    Bleeding tears are far as memories
    And now I do not need anymore
    No doubt, once happiness got lost.

    A frail and lonely dismay
    In life, a defeat will never be new
    But I still live embracing habits
    Until love might give strength to convey
    Life comes today in time
    And everything must fade away
    Sweet songs of hope and dismay
    Everything pierces a feeble heart
    Being another daytime like another year

    A frail and lonely dismay
    It should be a phantom
    Descending in the fleeting night
    Twixt its own soul’s delight
    It might drive me too fierce
    As well as it may appear
    Afar
    Like in a vision
    Before it fades again
    Whenever life is at peace with the truth
    So, no longer there would be an end
    As long as every dash would be gone.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Perpetually Lost

    Perpetually Lost

    Perpetually Lost

    Perpetually lost in the neverness of hopes
    It cannot be back what is forever lost
    They cannot be back those who nevermore will find a real dimension
    Once they are in another realm
    The lugubrious grief is not an amiable counterpart at most
    Being a shadow of every memory and prospect
    An encomiastical tale of a glorious bliss
    Eternally lost in a furtive instant
    A surreal and silent melody
    Stolen by the wind of the emotions
    Far-fetched beliefs of an idyll
    The need to trust a tainted truth fell into the abyss of misery
    And comfort can only be achieved in constant oblivion.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

© Esther Racah 2025. All rights reserved.