Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: light

  • Sublime Magnificence

    Sublime Magnificence

    Sublime magnificence drapes the night
    A vision is woven from bright silver stardust
    I wander like a fairy, bathed in moonlight
    A wisp of silver, floating like a ghost in flight

    Mermaids enchanting melodies cast a spell over me
    I’m reborn in a fairy tale realm made of dreams and cotton candy
    The scent of luscious flowers bewitches me to the point that I lose my mind
    Beneath the vast sky made of sapphires and diamonds

    Whispers of agony and solitude are memories that poison my heart
    Nevertheless, I belong to my realm of dreams and fairy tales forever
    Eternity belongs to me and all my dreams have eternal life
    Illusions are my delights and pangs that make me fly and fall continuously

    I feel like an ethereal fairy who belongs to magic and darkness
    Because I’m made of light and darkness
    I’m concealed by my fears
    And shrouded in shadows, where my soul disappears

    My wings are made of phantasmagorias
    And they let me fly so high that I touch the sky
    Through empires of stars, I sail on boundless seas
    Wandering endlessly between dreams and reality

    I belong to a place where nothing is as it seems
    For I am both the tempest and the calm between the beams
    I’m made of sorrow and the sublime
    A blend of shadows and light, transcending time

    Sublime magnificence lingers in the abyss of mystery
    Where shadows conceal secret dreams that are as light as whispers
    I float through the ether, the stars are my lanterns, and the moon my compass
    I belong to my fantastical world where illusions bloom like flowers

    My soul is a garden of dreams
    A place where nothing can truly be tangible
    For I am the magic that swirls in the mist
    The twilight’s siren and the forsaken witch

    In this realm of wonders, I eternally belong
    Forever surrounded by sublime magnificence.
    Elisabetta

  • The Storm of Fire

    The Storm of Fire

    The storm of fire and water overcame the stillness of the night,
    Beneath a sky overcrowded with clouds and fire,
    A magnificent spectacle beyond every imagination,
    In the midst of the infinite emptiness.

    Darkness ruled this phantasmagorical realm of fantasy and reality,
    Where illusions and deception became the only reality,
    In a play of light and shadow beyond the visible world.

    Decadent longings blossomed like dead flowers,
    Waiting to be obliterated by the fallacious gleam of decayed stars,
    While every hope withered like smoke in the void,
    In the ephemeral realm of fleeting lusts and desires.

    Solitude and a melancholic nostalgia made sombre the sky,
    Where the moon wept silver tears upon the world of reality,
    Veiled by mantles of ash and forsaken sighs,
    lighting a requiem for dreams long buried.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Delusional Expectations

    Delusional Expectations

    Delusional expectations in the midst of the night,
    When the most profound silence enveloped every corner of the realm of reality,
    The solitude ruled the entire realm of arcane and magical dreams.

    Darkness and light were both present in a frolic of magic spells,
    Flowers and trees grew taller every night, relying on desires and deceptions,
    Along the banks of rivers of oblivion.

    Remembrances fell down on cold soil like dead leaves,
    Making the noise of tombstones on forgotten graves,
    Echoes of souls lost in the void,
    Calling from beyond, where time no longer reigned.

    Shadows stretched their domain for every whisper of the wind,
    Dancing beneath a pale, evanescent moon,
    As the night creatures began to sing their silent melody.
    Fate lingered over every sigh and lament,
    As the boundary between dream and death blurred into obliviousness.

    Ephemeral phantoms wandered beneath twisted trees,
    Their hollow gazes fixed upon the distant stars,
    Which no longer offered promises of mirth or hope,
    In fact, they provided only a reflection of their despair.

    The scent of decay drifted through the air,
    A reminder of the countless stories left untold,
    Forgotten by the living and the dead.
    Yet, within this realm, they lingered,
    Bound by the remnants of a magic long since faded.

    In the centre of this spectral realm,
    A lone figure stood amidst the expanding dark,
    Cloaked in glooms, their sights filled with silent yearning.
    They scrutinised the cycle of night’s dominion,
    With no solace in the rising of the dawn.

    The river’s slow current carried away forgotten remembrances,
    Washing them clean of all the pain and sorrow,
    Only to return them once again,
    Draped in the midst of eternity’s frigid embrace.

    Delusional expectations blossomed in this endless twilight, like dreams of deliverance,
    They were no more than other illusions,
    Further delusions wrapped in the silence of the night.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Unopened Pages

    Unopened Pages

    Beyond the cover, realms await, unseen,
    In every book, a path to what has been.
    However, here prejudice stands, with its labels in the hands,
    Dismissing truths, it barely understands.

    The minds that bind themselves with endless chains,
    Are deaf to stories’ wisdom and knowledge gained.
    They close the book before it’s fully read,
    Content with titles, names, and what’s been said.

    But truth defies the cages they create,
    It bends beyond the lines that separate.
    For every story written holds a key,
    To unlock hearts and set the spirit free.

    To judge an essence by labels is to miss
    The depth of life, the beauty in the abyss.
    The page that holds the answers lies untorn,
    Nevertheless, senses stay closed, and ignorance is born.

    Beneath the ink, shadows twist and creep,
    Murmurs from forgotten worlds sleep.
    The words, like phantoms, haunt each line,
    Begging to be freed from the threads of time.

    More than the surface, deeper should they dive,
    For in those words, the most trustworthy self survives.
    The books unopened hold a thousand skies,
    And in their pages, prejudice defies.

    The label shouldn’t blind crowds from the tale,
    For in the written word, all hearts prevail.
    To open books is more than just a task,
    It frees the soul from every mask.

    And as the pages crackle in the night,
    A ghostly hand beckons toward the light.
    No thought confined, no mortal boxed away,
    For every story lives beyond the fray.
    The truth of existence cannot be simply named,
    It’s written comprehensively, with words that can’t be tamed.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Distant Light

    The Distant Light

    The Distant Light
    by Esther Elizabeth Racah

    The distant light danced on the edge of sight,
    Just beyond reach, just out of grasp.
    Steps grew weary in the endless night,
    Hope a fragile, fleeting clasp.

    It wavered like a ghostly flame,
    Teasing those who sought its glow,
    Led them through a darkened frame—
    A journey where shadows flowed.

    The distant light flickered in a fractured motion,
    A beacon in the void of night,
    Its promise, a fleeting trance,
    Drew seekers with its might.

    Each step became an endless strain,
    As the light stayed a phantom’s tease,
    Shadows stretched across the plain,
    Sapped strength, stole ease.

    It cast its lure, a wavering beam,
    Guided through a twisted maze—
    A dream of light, a distant gleam,
    Faded with the morning rays.

    In the end, the distant light stayed afar,
    A glimmer in the vast expanse—
    Shifted like a shooting star,
    Left shadows in its dance.

    The distant light remained a guide,
    A symbol of hopes untold,
    Led those who sought with pride
    To where stories unfolded.

    Yet every seeker, with weary steps,
    Found only relics of the light—
    A fleeting longing in the endless sweep
    Of darkness that devoured the night.

    They chased that light through valleys deep,
    Through mountains steep and vast oceans,
    But each pursuit was met with slumber,
    Where ghouls mocked the seekers’ stride.

    Some turned back, their strength undone,
    By the weight of dreams unrealised.
    Others pressed on toward the sun,
    Their hearts filled with fire, yet their eyes were disguised.

    The distant light, a siren’s call,
    Drew them close, then farther still.
    Through winding paths and towering walls,
    It beckoned with an iron will.

    It whispered promises in the cold blizzard,
    Of realms untouched by grief and woe—
    Of restful nights and peaceful seas,
    Where weary spirits might one day go.

    But every promise led to nought,
    As the light played tricks on eager minds.
    What once was found was soon forgotten,
    In a labyrinth of endless signs.

    The distant light became a hymn,
    Descanted by the wind, carried by dreams,
    An encomium of hope that lingered long,
    In the hearts of those lost in its gleam.

    Still, they chased, though hope grew thin,
    Through dense forests and deserts,
    Believed in the light within—
    A dream that never seemed to die.

    But in the end, the light vanished in the darkness,
    A ghostly wisp, a fleeting flame,
    A memory that could not be tamed,
    A distant star without a name.

    The distant light would never become
    A guide for those who dared to dream—
    Just a memory of a fainted beacon in eternity,
    That flickered in the unseen stream of imagination.

  • The Swamp Of Fear

    The Swamp Of Fear

    The swamp of fear and dismay,
    A realm of no escape and no hope,
    Where nightmares ruled slumber
    And hypnosis betrayed ingenuity.

    Idiotic mirrors cast spells over the crowd of senseless ghosts,
    Deprived of every speck of wisdom,
    Wandered in the darkness without a reference,
    Believing the lie as truth.

    Sour tears fell upon the garden of obliviousness,
    A place of refuge for those who sought to destroy memories,
    Confident that the pain would disappear,
    As a vanishing dream in the valley of grief.

    But the shadows only deepened,
    And the weight of forgotten sorrow lingered still.
    In the labyrinth of shattered dreams,
    Each step carried the echoes of forgotten screams.

    Unseen needles pulled at the strings of consciousness,
    Twisting reality into grotesque shapes,
    Ghouls bled into nightmares.
    In the distance, a phantom bell tolled,
    Ringing for the lost souls who kneeled before oblivion.
    They whispered prayers to a silent void,
    Sought release, yet were trapped in endless woe.
    The fog of despair thickened,
    The swamp of fear swallowed all light.

    And the stars themselves flickered out,
    As if extinguished by unseen forces.
    Through tangled vines of despair,
    The withering winds howled secrets untold.

    And the void, cold and indifferent,
    Watched over the endless night of the forsaken.
    Faint glimmers of false hope flickered,
    Only to be swallowed whole
    By the ever-hungry void.

    In this realm where time did not exist,
    The living and dead became entangled,
    Their souls entwined in a dance
    Of eternal unrest.

    The swamp of fear stretched further,
    Claiming all that wandered near.
    In the end, nothing remained
    But relics of forsaken entities
    And dreams that had turned to dust.

    In the suffocating dark,
    A silent scream drowned in the abyss,
    And the cursed lantern faded,
    Leaving nothing but shadows,
    As the swamp of fear spread across an eternity,
    And all sank into oblivion.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Silent Lamentations

    Silent Lamentations

    Silent lamentations pleaded the night sky,
    Once, no hope could have been secured in the valley of hollowness and death.
    Lurking beneath the horizon, the stars complied with each illusion,
    Far away from the trees of wisdom and consciousness.

    In this forsaken realm where darkness swallowed all the light,
    The land lay silently barren, touched by neither dawn nor night.
    The moon, a waning spectre in the vault of gloom,
    Drifted above ancient ruins, where stillness was taken for granted.

    Amidst the skeletal remains of what once was alive,
    The whispers of despair through the cold wind contrived.
    Every rustle of the leaves, every sigh of the wind,
    Recounted forgotten tales and unfulfilled pleas.

    The shadows stretched beyond, their shapes entangled with the mist,
    Draping in the memories of those who still were resilient.
    Their voices mirrored faintly, like relics of a dream,
    Lost in the chasm where no hope dared to gleam.

    In this valley of despair where time itself was motionless,
    The night sky’s silent lamentations fell gently, a reflection of a frigid blizzard.
    Stars that once were loyal guides through the darkened night
    With time, they became spectral remnants swallowed by the blight.

    In this void of silent cries, no delight could have been found,
    An eerie trance of glooms cast no consoling sound.
    Archaic trees, gnarled and twisted, stood as silent guardians of woe,
    Their branches narrated fairytales of sorrow and decay that only the dark could have known.

    Beneath this veil of endless night and desolate atmosphere,
    Longings were but a distant memory, lost in infinite despair.
    In the senseless embrace of the abyss where dimness lay in wait,
    The night sky grieved for dreams that could never have been escaped,
    Forgotten tales and unfulfilled supplications.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Torments Of Existence

    Torments Of Existence

    Torments of existence and death,
    Until the last speck of hope had been granted,
    To dreamers and illusioned vainly expecting realms of dreams,
    Underneath a starless night sky occluded by ignominious clouds.

    Despair hid behind shadows of forsaken longings,
    As the cold wind of fate chilled the bones of lonely ghouls,
    In the heart of the infinite darkness, where light dared not tread,
    And only silent screams of forgotten souls would reverberate unheeded.

    The essence of broken promises and shattered aspirations dissipated into the abyss,
    Unseen and unheard with a load of sorrow heavy as lead,
    In the midst of a reality binding and drenching them in perpetual twilight.

    No trace of lost dreams could have been revealed in the dark labyrinth of hunted spirits, Whose only solace lay in the embrace of eternal nights,
    For in this realm, the fragments of dreams merged with the wails of misery,
    Lost into the void.

    Torments of existence within a mournful maze of endless gloom,
    Within the depths of such despair,
    A gleam of defiance struggled to ignite,
    Amid the shadows of a dead heart.

    Every sliver of light strove to pierce through the suffocating dark,
    Until it became a frail memory of sick diseases,
    A weak flame that could not have endured the majestic abyss of emptiness,
    Swallowing every time and space.

    Death and destruction annihilated every hope and dream,
    Leaving only an empty desolation of shattered illusions and lost chimaeras,
    A barren expanse where the echoes of forgotten hopes lingered faintly,
    Relegated to the recesses of nightmares afflicted by the relentless tide of despair.

    In this forsaken domain, murmurs of bygone fantasies and dreams soared unrestrained,
    Hereafter reduced to haunting and obscene obsessions,
    The relentless march of time brought no solace,
    Only a deeper descent into the chasm of hopelessness.

    Anguished cries resonated eternally in an endless symphony of sorrow,
    And amidst the ruins of a world forsaken by light,
    Lonely figures wandered aimlessly, lost in the maze of torment and desolation,
    Spectres of once hopeful dreamers.

    In this realm where the sun dared not shine,
    And the moon’s glow was but a distant memory,
    Hope had become a relic of the past,
    A forgotten treasure buried beneath the weight of endless distress,
    In the presence of such overwhelming darkness.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Infinite Darkness

    The Infinite Darkness

    The infinite darkness lay within each dream,
    Exquisitely bounding everything in the void,
    Fair enough to reveal secrets and arcana of realms that never existed,
    In the presence of the absolute silence of stars and luminaries.

    The infinite darkness betrayed dreams and nightmares,
    In their foolishness and ignorance,
    Like a tide rising from an unknown moonless sky,
    A silver and purple firmament whole of unlimited fantasies.

    Soundless clouds of dust and light were ignominious omens,
    Betraying delusional dreams and untamed emotions,
    Speculations of innocence and death similarly doomed wishes,
    Shrouded in the mist of uncertainty and regret.

    Blue glimmers of occult fantasies hid beneath illusionary visions of a blurred realm,
    Granted to infinite and limitless imaginations,
    Without questions or answers in the absurdity of the universe,
    Interruption of every beauty and sublimity.

    In the silence of stars’ eternal gleam,
    Shadowed longings of forgotten aspirations beckoned,
    Where phantoms of memories and forgotten desires entwined,
    Draped in the spectral light of a desolate eternity.

    Each whispered secrets with echoes of timeless despair,
    Lingering in the hollowed expanse of a cosmic night,
    Concealing the truth in a veil of endless stars,
    Crafting tales of sorrow, anguish, and eternal despair.

    Within the abyss of this boundless void,
    Ancient spirits weaved their silent magic tales,
    Bounded by threads of sadness and ephemeral delight,
    In the everlasting trance of the infinite dark.

    Unseen delights guided the ethereal blisses,
    Through realms where dreams and reality collided,
    Where every shadow held a promise and every light a lie,
    In the uncharted expanse of the deepest fears and desires.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Concealed Dreams

    Concealed Dreams

    Concealed dreams,
    Fly through the night,
    Hidden in shadows,
    Beyond the reach of light.

    Beneath the surface,
    They quietly glow,
    Awaiting their moment,
    A chance to vanish.

    In secret labyrinths,
    Where fantasy resides,
    They bide their time,
    And silently glide.

    In the night realm,
    They softly tread,
    Planting seeds,
    In the fearless imagination.

    Concealed dreams,
    Yearn to be free,
    To break the chains,
    And sail the sea.

    With dawn’s first light,
    They start to rise,
    Unfolding their wings,
    To kiss the skies.

    No longer hidden,
    Their voices whisper,
    Transforming the world,
    With the joy they bring.

    Concealed dreams,
    Under starlit skies,
    Woven in sighs,
    Where the quiet lies.

    They dance in twilight,
    Where wishes are spun,
    In the deep of night,
    Away from the sun.

    These dreams are sacred,
    Held close and dear,
    Unseen by many,
    But ever so clear.

    In the stillness,
    They softly bloom,
    Casting away,
    The shadows of gloom.

    Silent and patient,
    They gather might,
    Awaiting the dawn,
    To embrace the light.

    With each longing,
    They gain their form,
    Defying the tempest,
    Braving the storm.

    Concealed dreams,
    find their voice,
    singing of bliss,
    and the power of loss.

    No longer subjugated,
    They find their might,
    Painting the heavens,
    With colours so bright.

    From the abyss,
    They rise and gleam,
    Shaping the infinite,
    From a silent desire.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

© Esther Racah 2025. All rights reserved.