Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: Inner Turmoil

  • My Enchanted Nights

    My Enchanted Nights

    My enchanted nights perished one by one, like creatures dying and being reborn, melting into a single, unique, and everlasting night. I fell in love, time and again, with monsters in the guise of magnificent and exquisite angels. I spent my endless nights casting spells and magic upon mortal souls.

    I felt mad and sore as my heart was pounding in all its fury, like a winter storm at full might. My scorched heart had been repeatedly stabbed and torn to pieces. I cried and screamed in vain into the emptiness of the nocturnal sky, where I couldn’t see any stars.

    I was dressed in dismay and grief, while the shadows of my beloved darkness wrapped me in their ethereal veil, begging all the ghosts of my imaginary realm to set me free from all the anguish and pangs I was condemned to hold in my bleeding heart.

    In my enchanted nights, I was intoxicated by poison potions and magic spells, wondering if there was some way to flee my infamous fate, unsure as I felt myself in that absolute silence that enveloped me inexorably.

    Distracted by enchanting melodies and disruptive rhymes that echoed in my mind, I became a part of the magical maelstrom that dragged me into the abyss of swoon and oblivion. I had transformed into a creature that refused the order of the mortal world.

    My enchanted nights imbued me with chaos and stardust, inducing me to fall apart and renounce all the dreams I had once made an oath to. So much was I steeped in poison and witchcraft that I had forsaken my promises.

    I had always been cursed by dreadful premonitions, as I was doomed to perish in decay and obliteration. My bygone, enchanted nights, made of glimmering luminaries, were nothing but faraway reveries.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Castaway’s Desires

    Castaway’s Desires

    Castaway’s desires enticed me in the long winter nights, when the frozen branches of hollow trees caressed me softly, as they needed to approach my body.

    The scent of burning candles devoured my enthusiasm and reminded me only of my hopeless misery. An everlasting burning desire swallowed my heart greedily like an invisible demon.

    My insensitive inertia cut my soul into pieces and I let the devastation take advantage of me. I was born to be obliterated and perish an infinite times in endless ways.

    Frenzy and turmoil were my loyal guides like flaming torches in the deepest darkness, and they fed me with their improper wisdom. I felt alive only because I embodied the distress that consumed me, leaving me in ashes.

    Indeed, it was true that scorching passion sometimes might have let me fall in love with things that destroyed, but it was what penetrated every part of me.

    I was made of fire and ashes surrounded by the cold mist of my dark chamber where dimly lit candles were my only merriment.

    The sweet screams of the night recalled to me who I really was. Obsession carved my vein instilling a tainted poison instead of blood. I became a creature of the realm of shadows and wraiths.

    I was consumed by my own fantasies and paranoid hallucinations. I had become the queen of madness among my lost memories of worlds to which I once belonged.

    No mortal entity could see me because I was visible only to creatures of my own. There was no transformation in my staticity.

    I could perceive the manifestation of my own tempest, like a tiny vessel in a stormy sea. Lost in the labyrinth of my dreams and dread, I was unable to discover the existence beyond time.

    The great mystery of seeking my reflection in the immense mirror of life made me realise my nothingness. There was no end and there was no beginning but merely a vague silence clinging to me like luscious ivy.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Buried Memories

    Buried Memories

    Buried memories unearthed in my subconscious during my journeys of lost and unknown dreams in places and times unknown to me and of which I perceived only fragments of memory that I kept to myself.

    Joys and sorrows dwelled in my heart, which knew no peace, and was constantly pierced by anguish and anxiety, as well as sorrowful memories full of resentment and regrets.

    I woke up with the anguish of memories and the worries that clung to me like invisible chains.
    And the clock struck ten past ten,
    It seemed as though the bells had rung,
    And the stillness around me revealed
    How my anxieties and anguish were fleeting realities,
    And though heavy, they could vanish into nothingness.

    The sadness—or melancholy, as it may be defined by words—was like an endless abyss within my heart, and it was that very sadness which had carved deep wounds that continued to bleed and had never healed. Time, in the end, had not fulfilled its duty, and the oblivion of my pains and sufferings had not completed its task.

    Lying in an inhospitable and unknown cemetery, I found myself in my solitude and in the most deafening silence.
    The crimson mist hovered around like a spirit both present and dominant within that mysterious and twilight aura.

    I felt how anguish mingled with my fears, as if, despite having lost everything, I would… I had doubted whether to descend further into the abyss of despair.

    And as the wind enveloped me in its coldness and its silent softness, so, in the very same moment, it was as though I had found myself in a new reality, a new realm, unfamiliar to me.

    If I were to find myself in the realm of lost, recovered, buried and unearthed memories, I would not know it—nor shall I ever—for my visions were like hallucinations, as if all of it were born of my own fantasies, my nocturnal nightmares, and my waking daydreams.
    Elisabetta

  • The Emptiness Within My Mind

    The Emptiness Within My Mind

    The emptiness within my mind
    Is death inside my heart,
    With no golden cage, no precious gems—
    just silence folding round itself,
    no escape, no hope,
    Only absence holding tight.

    Exhausted and devoid of feeling,
    I lay upon the cold earth,
    strewn with withered leaves,
    fallen flowers,
    and shards of abandoned dreams.

    Weeping,
    I heard the intense sound
    of my tears falling
    on leaves shriveled
    by the cold wind of night.

    Nothing remained
    around you,
    around me,
    But only the vague memory
    of those anguishes
    that oppressed me
    and never ceased
    to pursue me.

    I no longer held
    any desire to desire,
    nor to keep
    anything within my heart.

    My heart had ceased
    to be a chest
    of my wishes and whims.

    It was merely
    an empty chest,
    emptied by the fury
    and storms
    that swept over me
    In my wretched existence.

    Not even the stars
    sparkled in the sky
    above my dwelling.

    The heavens refused
    to shine for me.

    Yet they had forsaken me
    to my fate,
    where no hope remained,
    nor even a small flame
    to bring me back to life.

    Whispers and murmurs
    came to me
    In the form of a misty breeze,
    laden with elegies
    and funeral hymns.

    Despair and anguish
    were gifts bestowed upon me,
    like dazzling joys
    that in truth did not shine at all,
    But bound me fast
    In a realm of cruelty,
    wickedness,
    and mercilessness.

    Helpless and fragile,
    like the petals of a well-bloomed flower,
    I could not withstand
    such impetuousness and violence of events,
    so hostile to me—
    like endless storms at sea
    whose fury knows no end.

    The emptiness within my mind
    had become a spirit that subdued me,
    against which I could no longer resist.
    At last, I became part
    of the abyss of oblivion,
    And there I remained for eternity,
    wandering like a cloud
    In a stormy, winter night.
    Elisabetta

  • Somewhere In My Dreams

    Somewhere In My Dreams

    Somewhere in my dreams, random thoughts enveloped my mind, and the bitter memories of what I have lost—of my buried treasures—saddened my heart.

    It was as if I had surrendered myself to my own steps, walking down an avenue lined with dead trees, and with closed eyes I had defied the wind, which whispered to me words and secrets I no longer remember.

    Weighted down by my anguish, I could not see a glimmer of light, of hope, that might guide me in a clear and lucid direction. All I could find was only chaos and fear—a dread that tormented me, the fear of never being able to grasp my dreams, of never being able to enclose them within the cage of my heart.

    As much as I longed to cling to life, to my plans and dreams, their manifestations fell into the abyss of emptiness—an abyss that sought to swallow me into its chasm.

    And I remembered all the principles that had been taught to me, shaped like a golden cage in which I was made to live my entire life—bound by rigid conventions, dark as chains coiled around my ankles and wrists, suffocating me like sly ivy twisting about my neck, its soft and slender leaves wrapping my face in a silent, silken strangle.

    No, absolutely not. Stupidity has never belonged to me, nor hypocrisy, nor superficiality. And yet, I have always stood beyond an invisible wall—between myself and other mortals, who have always found me unusual, strange, even impossible to define within their social and mental structures.

    Excessively extreme in my obsessions, in my feelings, in my passions and in my visions. I have always been—and still am—a visionary, a dreamer at the mercy of events that have never truly belonged to me, for even now I find their traces in the vault of my past, like fragments of memories scattered across the sky above my head.

    Somewhere in my dreams, I’ve got lost in the labyrinth of reveries, trying to find myself—but in vain, for, in truth, I have never known myself, and I have never found who I truly am. I have always lived with the illusion of knowing, the illusion that others spoke the truth to me—as if their words were pearls of wisdom, as if they could guide me.

    But in the end, what I found was only an illusion. Only betrayal. My heart has been permanently defiled by the torments of mortals and by the shadowy mirages that have always hindered my path.
    Elisabetta

  • So It Was A Night

    So It Was A Night

    So it was a night a lonely light where the sky was covered in clouds and all the shades of blue
    surrounded by silent statues whose stares seemed looking at me but in reality, they just didn’t see me. My loneliness was my only dwelling to create another version of myself. I was crying tears of blood, shame and regret. I felt confused, and at the same time, I had the certitude that I would never belong to the world of mortals. I accepted the fact that I never understood and accepted the worldly rules and conventions as I was a creature of my own.

    It was just night when I realised all the decadence of my existence like an ancient statue living off the ancient memories of its previous life without any hesitation and doubt. And so I approached the mirror of my soul where I couldn’t see any image reflected. It was like I was without the soul, and it was because my heart was too broken to be alive. Being always surrounded by beauty and decay I realised my demise. I strived to accept my ephemeral  dimension and abide by being invisible like a small stone in a huge ocean of confusion.

    I knew that every delight and joy did not belong to me, but only sorrow and distress. All I could do was dream. Dreaming and lamenting my miserable life was my delight.  I felt like in a cage, an invisible cage that just made me imperceptible to the sight of everyone. I was just a shadow, a spirit of the night of the terminal darkness where only other ghosts and spirits could perceive my presence. So I was condemned ultimately to a place between dream and death. I was not sure that I was alive. I could not understand since I got lost in the labyrinth of my fate.

    So it was a night, an eternal night. There was no more sunrise or sundown. The sun vanished in the emptiness, and the horizon was so dark that it seemed to be made as an abyss of gloominess. I wondered terminally without finding a refuge of hope and happiness. Tired as I was, and exhausted from my life, I had to face my condition as irreversible and doomed. So it was a night, my eternal night the end of my suffering, and the beginning of the perpetual void. Deprived of light and desire.
    Elisabetta

  • The Golden Mirage

    The Golden Mirage

    The golden mirage appeared in front of me
    I couldn’t perceive if I were dreaming or awake
    But I could sense the magnificence of my vision
    As I forgot all my anxieties and fears, I proceeded on my path
    The deception of my fantasy could have betrayed me
    Because it felt so tangible and discernible

    I chased delusions and I couldn’t discern between reality and dream
    I had lost all my purposes, wandering without any directions
    My unintentional existence was a chimera
    Just a delusional journey destined to end in the valley of desolation
    In that barren stillness, I couldn’t find any awareness or hope
    My delusional adventure conducted me into the abyss of despair

    I had lost everything and the enchanting, tainted spell transformed into a ruin
    Distorted reflections of myself shimmered in giant golden mirrors
    Sparkling in all their lush illusion beneath the silent stare of the stars
    Every dream that blossomed in my imagination became a stone flower
    Everything I ever desired was reduced to crumbles of dust
    I felt the awareness that I had fallen victim to my own betrayal

    Every piece of my heart had been burned like an inextinguishable flame
    Wicked ghouls watched me from afar, sending me missives imbued with scorn and disdain
    While a defending silence resounded all over the surreal realm of gold and darkness
    Where absurdities and oddities governed as capricious rulers
    In this kingdom of gilded trees and silver moons, there were no directions or tickling clocks
    Everything seemed inert but also topsy-turvy

    My sleepless sanity surrendered to madness
    Overwhelmed by the outrage of my own fractured mind
    I wept behind a veil made of ephemeral lies
    The stars conspired against me, singing enigmas and riddles I couldn’t solve
    Making me feel dizzy and desperate
    I was a powerless creature in the realm of the golden mirage
    I had become a mirage myself.
    Elisabetta

  • Impaled By My Own Grief

    Impaled By My Own Grief

    Impaled by my own grief
    Like a butterfly pinned to a wall
    I was standing on the cold soil soaked by my own blood
    Among withered flowers infused with the scent of death
    Embracing my misery as it was a bliss for my weak heart

    Slowly unveiling the image behind the shadows hovering high
    I discovered the reflection of my true self in their shrouds
    I cried out loud, running out of tears of despair
    Dressed in the sparkling veil that the luminaries made for me
    And wearing a crown made of thorns and roses

    All the most terrible memories introduced themselves to me
    They appeared like dreadful ghouls and wraiths
    Stabbing me with their sharp daggers
    Reducing me to a relic
    In the presence of crows and dead trees

    I was an empty shell without reflection or shadow
    Whenever I was wondering, it seemed I didn’t leave any trace
    But only blood and thorns, a representation of my miserable existence
    What I was I knew not
    I became an enigma to myself

    I collapsed like a wax sculpture
    As I was an extinguished flame
    With a body stitched by bandages and shattered dreams
    Each thread was a reminder of the pangs carved all over my body
    And my heart was a crushed crystal

    The gleaming moonlight created an aura made of silver
    Spectres were floating over me
    While I was waiting for the stars to guide me
    But no sign was there for me
    Only the deepest darkness and squalid solitude

    The cruel fate had decreed my end with the worst despair of my soul
    All my cries were dispersed by the cold wind of a winter night
    Nothing more was there for me
    I had lost everything dear to me
    And a storm wrapped me in its deadly embrace

    Impaled by my own grief
    I was the embodiment of my own tragedy.
    Elisabetta

  • The Shadows Of Affliction

    The Shadows Of Affliction

    The shadows of affliction hunted me in the night
    They awakened me in the middle of my slumber
    Like a fever that gripped my body with its sharp claws
    It always left me crying on my bed with a bleeding heart
    Submerged in my teardrops I kept my soul wide open
    As if I could get more dazed than the night before

    Echoes of my lost dreams resounded in my obscure chamber
    They made me feel like a withered flower with no hopes
    I was left, astray in the wasteland of silence
    As I was a forgotten spirit, I wandered among the ruins of my soul
    The abyss of void yelled my name to reclaim me as its beloved possession
    Because nothing more could have saved me

    If I could have erased all my distressing memories
    I would have lived a bearable existence in peace and calm
    Instead, I was doomed to eternal misery and the spasms of death
    I couldn’t find any key to the door that was keeping me locked in my struggle
    So many thoughts and fears were overcrowding my mind that I couldn’t tell
    I felt overwhelmed and dizzy as I was wandering in an endless maze without guides

    The shadows of affliction were cast over me like ominous ghosts
    I stood immobile since panic had grasped my heart
    The frosty breeze of the night froze my bones
    And every mirror I encountered never reflected my authentic image
    I didn’t remember my name anymore, and my purposes
    Climbing ivy curled like serpents, entwining me in veins of sorrow and silence

    From the instant I died, I was buried beneath layers of anguish as a captive of the underworld
    Chained to cry and despair amid the indifference of stars
    And the moonless night sky offered no comfort
    I had chosen to hide in the darkness and never reveal myself to the light
    With nothing left but a lifeless heart
    I had become one of the shadows of affliction.
    Elisabetta

  • Lost In My Hallucinations

    Lost In My Hallucinations

    Lost in my hallucinations, seeking insanity and self-destruction. I made of self-loathing my eternal anthem and favourite melody. Listening to the noise of the light of the sun when it hit the petals of my flowers, I followed my own shadow in the green meadow of hope. Kneeling down I strove to protect myself from all that dazzling gleaming since I was made of darkness and decadence.

    Lies and illusions were the source of life for my soul which sought exclusively the sweet poison of deception. Wandering beneath a sad sky deprived of stars and moon, I couldn’t take control of my fears and turmoils, I forgot my name although it was carved on every stone I trampled on. Wildly led by my shattered hopes, I roamed astray into the wilderness of aborted dreams.

    Lost in my hallucinations, I was searching for myself and the sense of life while teardrops were marking imprints on my face. Memories sounded like melodies in my ears I couldn’t avoid facing them because they were like a thick cloud enfolding my heart. And words came to my mind like thunders in the middle of the night. The silent stillness soothed me slowly in my insomnia.

    I knew not what I was really and I never saw my reflection on any mirror. I was a stranger to myself and I never met any other creatures like me. I was utterly cast away, lost in the tides of my own desolation, wondering if I ever could have been different. The scent of death enticed me to follow a trail leading into an abyss of despair, where I could embrace my complete obliteration.

    Having lost my wisdom, I discovered a new shape of fictitious reality enticed to the absurd realm of fantasy. There I was not alive anymore but doomed to inexhaustible agony, where fortune frayed like a worn-out thread spun from the hands of forgotten deities. I was the manifestation of decline and defeat.
    Elisabetta

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