Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: invisible chains

  • The Tower Of Whispers

    The Tower Of Whispers

    The tower of whispers is my longed-for and, at the same time, rejected place. It is where I felt at home but also strange, where, at times, states of euphoria and joy were constrained by sadness and deep melancholy mixed with grief.

    In the distance, I heard the chiming of faraway churches and the birds chirping around me. Yet I was trapped in this tower of desires and grudges, hopes and disappointments, expectations but also the deepest anguishes, and memories—a tower full of memories, sweet yet mournful.

    I shuddered between amazement and dream, my anxieties, my fears were wrapped around me and almost forming bonds, invisible chains that held me still and at the same time in awe because of a situation of stability where joy and pain mixed into a single essence.

    The echo of various voices thundered in my head, in this dark tower of whispers. It seemed that time had stopped when I realised I could no longer see my reflection in any mirror because I no longer had an image. I had lost my original features and had transformed into something undefined.

    I had become a creature of a thousand personalities and moods, and I had fallen into a vortex of shadows and decay from which, no matter how much I tried to escape, I could not free myself. It was these shadows that seemed to reflect my thoughts and my anguish.

    My heart did not know passion. My sleep was… disturbed by monstrous creatures… that… afflicted pains to my heart and body… every time… I clung… to a desire for joy and peace… and hope.

    And so the rest of eternity unfolded before me as if I were a passive spectator with eyes without tears, but with a heart full of anguish, feelings, sadness, and regrets.
    Elisabetta

  • Beneath The Ocean Vault

    Beneath The Ocean Vault

    Beneath the ocean vault, there was a secret place
    where the hidden truths and the most recondite secrets had been buried.
    Among ruins covered by coral and algae
    and a rather unsettling expanse of swirling water.
    It was there that the crypt under the ocean lay,
    as if the sea had been its roof and also its home.
    Mine was a simple vision,
    it may be that I was dreaming,
    it may be that I was having these hallucinations.
    I only know that it was not the fruit of a conscious and calculated imagination.
    It seemed that I had abandoned myself
    to the sound of the stormy waves on an autumn evening.
    When the faint light of the sky merged with the water of the ocean
    until merged as one unity.

    I closed my eyes and I abandoned myself to my imaginative madness,
    And I saw with even more clarity that marvellous and fantastical landscape
    which did not belong to me,
    But which in some way symbolised something of my past or of my future,
    because I, in the end, lived in the past and the future.
    My present was in oblivion.

    Beneath the ocean vault, my dreams had ceased to whisper visions and desires. In their place remained nightmares that drew their fantasies from bitter disappointments and atrocious memories. And it was in this labyrinth of water and darkness that I found myself entwined, clutched as if unbound by invisible chains.

    I found myself in an oceanic crypt where the sea creatures had turned into ghosts, hunting me like prey and a victim of their tortures and torments. My invocation to the cruel fate of a possible change, where I might have grasped a flower of hope, was to no avail. In the endless and vast infinite.
    Elisabetta

  • The Realm Of Crimson Roses

    The Realm Of Crimson Roses

    The realm of crimson roses was my treasure
    The secret haven of my desires for extravagant dreams
    The sweet and bewitching scent of the crimson roses drugged me
    It was like I drank the poison of oblivion for the very first time
    And I forgot my essence, bleeding my heart out

    I had visions and hallucinations like I was in an eternal sleep
    I saw beauty and magnificence in every corner of the castle of dreams
    Crying and smiling, I’ve finally found infinite delight in my abyss of anguish
    No pang could frighten me anymore because I was free
    Like a bird flying so high, it could touch the sky

    I belonged to the realm of crimson roses, and my heart was bound to it
    Through invisible chains made of love and death
    No slumber was necessary anymore because I was in a perpetual state of stupor
    Enchanted by a wicked spell cast over me, I could no longer abandon my state of captivity
    I was languidly mesmerised

    I surrendered to a throne of nightmares and dread
    It was made of crimson roses and adorned with long and sharp thorns
    So pointed were their punches pierced my heart
    Making me bleed until I became an ethereal creature of the night
    The pain freed me from fears and insecurities
    And I had not anymore a material body
    After all, I never lived in reality because I was born in the realm of nightmares and madness

    I knew not whether I dreamt or waked
    So dazed was my mind, I could not divine between vision and verity
    The realm of crimson roses could have been a spectre of my imagination
    Enchanting me like a nocturnal lullaby
    It suited my senses and hypnotised my heart
    A fleeting Utopia, born to wither with the dawn.
    Elisabetta

  • The Melancholy Of Abandoned Hopes

    The Melancholy Of Abandoned Hopes

    The melancholy of abandoned hopes,
    In the abyss of the night, where shadows softly crept, dwelled the realm of sorrow and wept,
    Underneath the moon’s pale and ghostly glow,
    While the whispering woes of the night winds blew.

    Sorrow’s realm dwelled in the shadows and hid in the abyss of the night,
    Where secrets slept among ancient ruins of failed dreams,
    Ivy grew so thick to lurk the sorrow of abandoned and sick illusions,
    Once-bright ambitions now faded and torn.

    Hope lay buried in silence, where it was once born,
    In the emptiness and void of senses, now haunting and cold,
    Reverberating through halls where bliss and peace once strolled,
    Whose walls, now crumbling, spoke of days gone by.

    When hearts were full and spirits high,
    In the broken windows, only reflections of despair,
    Glimpsed spirits and ghouls who lingered, forever ensnared in hollowed traps of disdain,
    Their eyes, like sunken wells, devoid of light, told of battles lost in endless nights of death.

    The aether became thick with whispers of unkept promises,
    Of futures once envisioned, now silently swept away,
    By wild storms with hurling winds of mournful cruelty,
    Ghostly sighs carrying remnants of gloomy cries.

    Beneath the withered trees, where no sunlight dared to tread,
    Lay the remnants of fantasies, now cold and dead,
    The branches twisted with an agony within,
    Reached out in silent torments to the void they were in.

    In this sombre place, where hope had lost its way,
    Each step echoed the grief of past times,
    The path was dark, lined with ashes of despair,
    Leading to a chasm of obliviousness laying bare.

    In the crevasse of infinite melancholy, where abandonment reigned,
    The heartbeats slowed, bound by invisible chains,
    For in the land where wishes were left behind,
    Only the sorrow of shadows could be found.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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