Tag: living

  • The Living Secret

    The Living Secret

    The living secret lay in the heart of an ancient wood,
    Where shadows whispered, and wind brooded,
    A secret lived, long kept in the gloom,
    Breathing within the forest’s tombs.

    Whispers of sorrow filled the air,
    Ghostly figures, pale and fair,
    Guarded the tale of dreams and dread,
    Bound to secrets, never dead.

    Moonlight seeped through twisted trees,
    Casting shadows, eerie frieze,
    Where the past and present met,
    A haunting dance, silent yet fleet.

    In the stillness of the night,
    A lantern’s glowed, pale and slight,
    And revealed the secret, living still,
    Hidden in the vale and hill.

    Once a love, now turned to woe,
    In whispers, its sorrow flowed,
    Bound by fate and time’s cruel hand,
    A tale that none could understand.

    Caution was required for those who dared,
    For the living secret lingered there,
    In the heart of the ancient wood,
    Where shadows whispered, and wind brooded.

    Beyond the veil, shadows lingered,
    Reaching out with ghostly touches,
    Eyes like embers, burning bright,
    Glimmering beacon in the endless night.

    They waited for those who would break the chain,
    To lift the curse, to end the pain,
    But none returned from whence they went,
    Lost to the secret’s chilling glow.

    A melody, both sweet and sad,
    Echoed through the glade, so bad,
    Alluring those whose desires belonged,
    To join the wraiths where they indulged.

    Treacherous was the path that led too far,
    Where night concealed the morning star,
    For in the dark, the secret lay,
    Living in the mournful cries.

    Ancient trees with twisted limbs,
    Hid the faces, grim and dim,
    Of souls that wandered, lost and cold,
    In search of peace, they never told.

    Through the mist, a whisper called,
    From forgotten, crumbling halls,
    Where the living secret bided its time,
    A tale spun from sorrow’s rhyme.

    No warning could have saved the brave and bold,
    Of secrets ancient, dark, and old,
    For in the heart of shadowed wood,
    A living secret quietly stood.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • In The Stillness Of The Night

    In The Stillness Of The Night

    In the stillness of the night,
    Murmurs stir in spectral light.
    Moonlight weaves through shadowed trees,
    Casting phantoms in the breeze.

    A faint sound, barely heard,
    Echo is like a ghostly word.
    Fog creeps low upon the ground,
    Silent secrets, none profound.

    Graves stand guard in solemn rows,
    Beneath them, tales of sorrow flow.
    Marble cold and weathered grey,
    Hides the regrets of yesterday.

    Raven’s caw, a haunting cry,
    Pierces through the midnight sky.
    Wings as dark as most bottomless voids,
    On cursed winds, the air devoid.

    In the forest, shadows play,
    Dancing where the moonbeams stray.
    Eyes that gleam with hidden spite,
    Glimmer in the pitch of the night.

    An old house, a forgotten place,
    Windows stares with a hollow face.
    Doors that creak in mournful sighs,
    Shelter memories that won’t die.

    Candles flicker in the gloom,
    Fighting darkness that they loom.
    Ancient clocks tick slowly and fast,
    Counting down to moments past.

    The mirror’s surface, cold and clear,
    Reflects not the living here.
    Figures move when none are near,
    Silent screams you cannot hear.

    Steps that lead to nowhere known,
    Winding paths of moss and stone.
    Ghostly forms that roam and rove,
    Searching for what they once called home.

    In the distance, bells toll low,
    Marking time where none can go.
    Each chime a whisper, soft and thin,
    Inviting all the shadows in.

    And as the night claims all in sight,
    Darkness reigns with quiet might.
    In this realm where fear holds sway,
    Eternity and night will stay.

    So heed the warnings, keep them near,
    For the night holds more than fear.
    In the depths where shadows blend,
    Lies are a place where dreams descend.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Mirror Of The Memories

    The Mirror Of The Memories

    The mirror of the memories
    It would never be the same
    Time kept the past and grew deeper than everything
    As someone else
    Lost in an accustomed truth
    It became a dream with living memories of every past love
    Pain and grief stand in a forgotten place
    A quiet escape where nothing changed
    Dreams become lost everywhere
    Even after an endless quest
    When the world seems without any hope
    In my memory
    I’ve been so far from what I was
    Maybe it was an illusion
    I thought to seek myself because
    the reality is just dreadful

    The mirror of the memories
    Whose secrets create my dreams
    Which can only be found far away
    In a silent dwelling
    Stretching between existence and nothingness
    Where everything is lost
    Through the anguishes in life
    Forevermore
    The feelings occur like different images
    Seizing a chance to endure
    But it is said for something
    Sometimes life can lead away from the joy
    Time might be a truth that comes across
    The past glimpsed the feelings of love
    So far
    How much do I love to understand those mysteries of my mind

    The mirror of the memories I glance
    And hope to touch with my thoughts
    It has no place in time
    Becoming lost and frightened by the
    the reality that has been forgotten
    Flickering like a sunbeam in a warm spring breeze
    The scenery of a summer that I stare
    For a while
    Feeling what would come into my mind
    Striving to seize happiness day by day
    The marvellous merriment of living
    So I would try to love and be filled with flowers
    Like flying bubbles on a lovely day
    Deeming how life is unique and unrepeatable
    Beyond the beginning and the ending
    In the eternity of darkness and light
    Once everything becomes timeless.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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