Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: Introspective

  • 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

  • I Belong To The Nightmares

    I Belong To The Nightmares

    I belong to the nightmares and the nightmares belong to me
    As long as my heart still beats I will be a creature of the darkness
    Anguish and distress are the reflections of me in every mirror I encounter
    I have no name but my past is an abyss of obliteration
    I have a dread of existing because I belong to death
    I possess the gift of scorn and indifference because nobody ever loved me
    I’ve always been despised and estranged by every shadow of this world
    I don’t belong to anyone not even to myself
    I belong to darkness and death
    Having lost all those treasures I’ve cherished so dearly
    Now I’m left with nothing but the dust of decay
    My bones and blood and heart belong to the underworld of death
    A realm that despises every miserable being parading their ridiculous triumphs with vain and frivolous pride

    I belong to the nightmares and the dungeons of madness
    I never follow the trail of soulless being of this material world
    I stand alone in my misery and proudly away from everyone
    I don’t need anyone belonging to humankind because I feel only rejection
    I’m a shadow of the night and my heart belongs to whom is not anymore with me
    I sealed my heart with ancient crimson wax made of my blood and tears
    Pride no longer belong to my ethereal sphere, where I decided to enclose myself to avoid the corruption of falsity and hollowness
    The silence that I chose to embrace is deeper than a grave
    In my sanctuary reserved for the broken and cursed spirits
    I despise the sunlight, and I devote my fetish to darkness
    In my veins flow only blood made of sorrows and black ink
    I have become the manifestation of all my screams that nobody ever heard.
    Elisabetta

  • In Desolation And Affliction

    In Desolation And Affliction

    In desolation and affliction, I was left viciously by my wicked fate
    Hopeless and deserted by all my dreams as if I were not worthy of bliss and ecstasy
    Delighted to let my senses abandon every type of wisdom
    I stopped to chase what couldn’t be mine forever
    Hence, all my crimson roses began to wither
    They become obsidian blossoms like the deepest night
    I could only sigh and weep surrounded by the skulls of my memories

    Ancient skulls and black roses all around me
    They became my guardian angels watching me closely
    They were the witnesses of my defeat and decline
    My virtues became my blemishes and I became a demon of myself
    I was a terrifying ghoul of the darkness, hunting dreams and love
    Nevertheless, I wouldn’t be able to catch dreams or love
    Being both of them out of reach for me who I was a simple creature of nightmares

    I even chased my own shadow in vain but I couldn’t find it
    Because I had no shadow and no soil
    My heart was filled with poison and decay
    There was no more space for love and delight
    The perpetual state of grief and misery transformed me into a spirit of dismay
    I embodied sorrow and every teardrop of mine was extinguished
    I had lost everything so dear to me
    I had lost everyone so loved by me
    I had lost myself in obsessions and wickedness

    I had to die several times in order to be born again and again
    How many times have I died?
    I never remembered it because each time my heart embraced death I lost my mind to an amnesia
    Thorns and brambles carved on my body arcane messages of wreckage and doom
    I have felt doomed all life long with no redemption or faded hope
    I was just a ghost of despair and nothing more
    In desolation and affliction, I’ve found my eternal respite and I surrendered to pursue all of my dreams and desires all at once.
    Elisabetta

  • Crying To Death

    Crying To Death

    Crying to death until I lose all my fears
    Crying to death until my heart bleeds the last drop of grief
    I don’t remember my name anymore
    I come from a faraway realm where dreams are forbidden
    I wander astray in the labyrinth of my bleeding heart

    Not anymore comforted by solace and delight
    I strive to find refuge in my secret realm of illusions
    Because I love to lie to myself with shameless boldness
    Because I love to fill my heart with deception

    I’m untamed and wild, and I don’t bow to any convention
    It’s impossible to fit my soul inside a box of comfort
    Too many thoughts crowd my mind
    Too many emotions crowd my heart
    I’m a paroxysm, a burst of madness wrapped in the quietness of my sorrow

    I love to wear exclusively beautiful vintage-style dresses and ballerinas
    I love to wear red lipstick and red nail polish
    I never cut my long blond hair because they keep my little secrets for years discretely
    I love books but sometimes I keep them closed as if I would like to guess what is going to happen next in the story

    I mainly write night and day and I cannot see myself not writing even a day
    That would be like asking me not to breathe
    I suffer in silence when I am home alone so nobody can discover it
    I never plan what I’m going to write because I believe in improvisation in poetry
    I love cloudy skies but not the rain because it makes me feel miserable

    I love to be in love but I also love to be loved and adored
    Solitude and books are my best companions, indeed the only ones
    I adore art in all its forms, music, literature and art
    Sometimes I prefer to write in a direct way and simple style without labyrinths of metaphors

    Crying to death is a way to express myself when I’m suffering unbearably
    And when I don’t feel understood and seen by the other creatures of this planet or when memories come to visit me
    After all, we suffer mainly because of indifference or tainted interactions with other entities or because of something we don’t want to remember

    I feel like an alien creature not belonging to standard society and as an introvert it’s very difficult being part of this messed ocean where I never felt comfortable. So bizarre and odd I’m in the other’s sight that I cannot blend with them.
    Therefore, I dwell in my loneliness where I have built my castle of dreams.
    Elisabetta

  • Delving into the Darkness

    Delving into the Darkness

    Delving into the darkness, where shadows twist and writhe,
    A step beyond the threshold, a journey far from light.
    The whispers of the void grew louder, filled with grief,
    A world devoid of hope, where none could find relief.

    Once, there was a spark of life, a flame that dared to burn,
    But here, in this forgotten place, all flames refuse to return.
    The walls of night drew closer still, their cold embrace suffused,
    And in the pit of nothingness, my soul became unloosed.

    Delving into the darkness, the air turned full of dread,
    Each breath a hollow gasp, the weight of dreams long dead.
    The earth beneath my feet felt cold, a tomb of silent stone,
    The echoes of my footsteps—whispers of the unknown.

    No cries were left to utter, no tear to break the gloom,
    I merged with every shadow, a phantom of the vault.
    The ground no longer held me firm, nor the sky above my head,
    For in this void, I ceased to be—the living, now the dead.

    Delving into the darkness, all senses were soon lost,
    Time stretched into infinity at an unfathomable cost.
    The shell that once embraced my warmth was now cold, fragile, racked,
    The spirit that defined my being faded, lost, and sacked.

    A figure of a forgotten entity, I wandered through the shade,
    My name, my face, my history, all memories decayed.
    The world beyond had faded, its contours out of sight,
    And in this endless chasm, I vanished from the light.

    Delving into the darkness until there’s nothing more,
    A silhouette upon the void, unseen by any shore.
    I am the night, the silence, the fear within your chest,
    A remnant of a world erased, an eternal, restless guest.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Haunting Nightmares

    Haunting Nightmares

    Haunting nightmares unfolded in the stillness of midnight,
    Shadows drifted with restless purpose.
    Fear seeped into dreams, creating unseen pathways,
    Where the air had been murky with memories of old anxieties.

    Tree branches, hollowed and distant, moved through the darkness,
    Piercing the quiet with an unspoken dread.
    Forgotten fears etched their presence,
    Onto the silent canvas of the night.

    Sleep and wakefulness merged,
    Each breath was a thread woven into the dark.
    In those spaces where time seemed to dissolve,
    Terror took shape and form.

    Fragments of the past whispered and blended into the vast night,
    The imagination drifts away, caught in its own creations.
    The darkness expanded, swallowing every dream,
    Until dawn’s light broke the spell.

    Even when the day returned,
    The echoes of the night persisted,
    Shades lingering as reminders of the fragile boundary between reality,
    And the infinite realms conjured in darkness.

    Whenever the chill of night’s grip indulged,
    A spectral fragment of fear remained unseen.
    Wisdom clashed with madness that clung to the edges of unconsciousness,
    A silent relic of the night’s dominion.

    Stars shimmered faintly, barely gleaming through the abyss,
    Their light was a distant hope that was often lost within the gloom.
    The silent rustling of leaves became a cryptic hymn,
    Murmuring secrets to those who dared to lose themselves in the emptiness.

    Sinister memories fastened in the labyrinths of thought,
    Each was a trace, a reminder of paths once taken but now forgotten.
    The weight of invisible realms pressed upon each soul,
    Drawing forth shadows from the recesses of the minds.

    Whispers of the wind carried the scent of forgotten sorrows,
    A frozen stroke that traced the spine with its icy fingers.
    In the secrets of the night, woven with threads of fear and dismay,
    The hearts beat louder, like blasts against the silence.

    Haunting nightmares encroached as the darkness reluctantly withdrew,
    Leaving behind specs of their ethereal presence,
    Suspended in the fading shadows.
    Vivid horrors receded to the fringes of memory,
    Yet their impact endured, a reminder of the night’s grip.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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