Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: literary poetry

  • The Restlessness Of The Night

    The Restlessness Of The Night

    The restlessness of the night never left my quiet chamber adorned with ancient mirrors and candles extinguished by the freezing wind of the darkness.
    The silence helped my nightmares discourage my heart from holding dear its long-coveted desires.
    Henceforth, I tried not to panic when I realised that I couldn’t find any image of myself in the mirrors of my antique manor.
    Not even a portrait was there and each time I tried to perceive my countenance, all I could discover was a box full of sand and decay.
    The hours sang an elegy for the passing of the night that was infinite and determined to rule hegemony in the realm of my bizarre fantasies and odd revelations.
    Magic dreams were only faraway illusions that had been bestowed to me once again only to be left in the abyss of despair with nothing but my vest full of sand and decay.

    The restlessness of the night offered me the goblet of eternal torment, alluring me with fairy tales and foolish legends.
    I wished to become an invisible creature of the gloomy night, however, I could do nothing but observe my name inscribed on every wall and book that I had encountered.
    No importance was given to my will since the day I was born beneath the hollow trees of dismay.
    The stars manifested their disregard for me, leaving me in my senseless loneliness, at the mercy of the raging storms that would have swept me away.
    In vain, I claimed my liberty from that misfortune, but they came to claim me and all that once was mine, the ghouls from the archaic world of my past misadventures.
    Perhaps I could have forgotten the sensations of delight and gentle euphoria.
    The restlessness of the night had become the portal to my agony and everlasting grief, which never abandoned my aching heart.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Where Shadows Bloom

    Where Shadows Bloom

    Where shadows bloom and feast I plunge into the pond of sorrow with my eyes full of tears and my heart emptied by the storm of oblivion.

    The impetuous wind that had welcomed me earlier became a gentle breeze, stroking the night flowers and leaving a trail of night scent.

    In vain, I attempted to reach the stars, but the only thing that remained in my hands was a rag from one of my dresses as a memento of what I was but not anymore.

    The night has passed as quickly as the flow of a raging river that sweeps away its banks. My heart couldn’t hear its own heartbeat as if it were in a chest in the deepest abyss of the ocean.

    Where shadows bloom and celebrate my defeat like in an endless chess game, I obeyed my fatal fortune, which purposely forgot to grant me even the tiniest wish.

    The cage of my memories reappeared, holding my desires as captives in its golden entanglement, sparkling bright beneath the full moon, whose light lit the night like blazing butterflies.

    The glimmering butterflies enflamed each flower of the enchanted forest, which glowed like a treasure chest filled with precious gems.

    All of a sudden, I shirked the anguishes that had haunted my heart like ubiquitous phantoms, and I lost all my caution, embracing the unknown darkness.

    As I wandered farther into the darkness, I could hear the tumultuous waters of the river, which carried away the last fragments of my forsaken sorrow.

    The blooming shadows had become my loyal guides in my trembling fate, no longer my fears. Secretly sealed portals were locking the relics of my lost dreams.

    The gloomy clouds kept me from glancing at the stars, hiding them beneath their celestial veil.
    At last, I remained in my lonely quietude, not waiting for anything to happen, not even the next sunrise.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • In The Abyss Of Nightmares

    In The Abyss Of Nightmares

    In the abyss of nightmares, I belonged for epochs, which lasted as long as the obliteration of my dreams became predominant. Perpetually, the invasive obsession with liberty and chance came to me oddly; nevertheless, I was not able to grasp the flower of resilience, which was far too unreachable. Soon I realised that the nights had overtaken the days and the sun was forever gone.

    The echo of my lost dreams reverberated like a scream from the infernal abode of the forsaken ghouls, whose souls were being kept in a jar of gold and crystals. I didn’t ask for that lugubre situation, as my heartbeat was as slow as the tolling of an antique clock, accustomed to no longer marking time—not even for the mirrors. A downpour supervened, interrupting that solemn silence.

    In the abyss of nightmares, I discovered that losing all my hopes and dreams had become my delight and bliss as if I enjoyed the misery I was destined to endure since the beginning of eras. As long as darkness was eternity, no feeling of compassion or consolation could soothe my heart, which had become a stone, for the nightmares were caring for my soul.

    Each phantom I encountered showed me a book made of tears and memories, then flashed a sneer at me, as if satisfied to accompany me to the valley of despair and decay. And there I lay on the gelid soil that absorbed every teardrop of mine, giving life to flowers whose petals were made of sharp rocks. No reprieve was hidden behind the portals of that realm under the sovereignty of shadows and darkness.

    I didn’t even need to escape from that place anymore because it had become the most intrinsic part of myself as if I were a creature of the abyss of nightmares and perpetual storms since eternity. And even the sun had melted with the moon transforming into a black star likely a massive sphere of obsidian irradiating me with its powerful gloominess as if to welcome me.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • The Night Lies Over Me

    The Night Lies Over Me

    The night lies over me like an immense quilted blanket of stars and gloomy clouds
    Sweet are the whispers of my dreams that welcome me into their magical alcove
    Lost in the depths of my imagination
    I continue to wander in the night
    Unaware of my fate, I am blindfolded on my uncertain path
    Letting the disquiet burn in my heart as if I were a candle in a storm
    I wait for the thorns to turn into feathers in my secret garden of mystery
    Everything is concealed from my eyes
    And I wake up in the haze and turmoil
    In front of me only emptiness and the scent of fear
    How long could I have fed myself on the illusion of my dreams?
    I know not as long as the clouds obscured the stars
    I covet fondly the freedom of birds lingering in the firmament
    I struggle intensely to catch a glimpse of withered flowers and evanescent butterflies
    And the night lies over me again like a layered shroud
    Quietly the wind whispers legends and enchantments
    Taking me into the fantastic realm of chimaeras and the overworld
    Where no mortal soul could be conceived
    Since only fabulous creatures inhabit my fantasy
    Loneliness surrounds me and hushes my eagerness to lose myself easily in the maze of foolishness
    I sense my dreams as the only reality where I am my tangible self
    An ocean filled with delusions and empty shells attempts to swallow my awareness
    The exquisite scent of roses and magnolias cannot rescue me any longer
    Since the oblivion of the night’s desires takes hold of me
    It was too late for me to redeem my heart
    In the solitude of the dusk
    When everything seemed so painfully calm
    Alas, could I finally find myself in the lost abyss of my ineptitude?
    I sigh and dream
    No further wisdom enlightens my vision
    Now that the night lies over me.
    Elisabetta Esther

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