Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: lost hope

  • Midnight Thorns

    Midnight Thorns

    Midnight thorns grew for each teardrop that stroked my face
    With a heart full of stitches and pins
    And for each memory, a mask of remembrance grew like a flower of death
    In a golden cage of betrayal and deception, I dwelled in utter solitude
    Faraway from the vulnerable and wicked sight of mortals

    At each instant, my expectations arose under the shape of lifeless trees
    No season and no hour differentiated the realm of midnight thorns
    A persistent aura of doom distinguished this gilded dungeon
    No sun was rising on the horizon
    Only the several moons dared to appear in all their splendour and dark emotionlessness

    My dwelling was a castle made of pure gold and decadence
    Amid an enchanted forest of malicious spirits and magic spells
    From each mirror, an unknown countenance emerged
    As if my reflection shifted with every passing instant

    Mystical fanfares and funeral laments wavered like otherworldly fragments of sorrow
    Echoing within the hollow walls of my golden dungeon
    Elegies without words hovered as mourning tributes to obliterated dreams
    The chandeliers wept waxen tears made of gold
    And all the chambers and hallways trembled beneath imperceptible footsteps

    I strolled in mourning robes, carrying secrets and grief
    I followed the trail of dark shadows, finding no merriment
    I had lost myself and all my hopes were obliterated
    Everything was buried beneath the ashes of my forsaken dreams
    And the shadows had become friends of my own melancholy

    The glooms were the reflection of my own melancholy
    And all the mirrors were portraits watching quietly with their empty eyes
    No sound beckoned my name, and no aid came from the darkness
    There I was surrounded by the heady perfume of ancient roses and antiquity dust
    I ceded to midnight thorns, the venom of demise and drama.
    Elisabetta

  • Fragments of Pang

    Fragments of Pang

    Fragments of pang had been what remained after the storm of betrayal and deception,
    Having destroyed every hope and delight in the garden of dreams and desires.
    Beneath the silvered sky, where shadows twisted and writhed,
    The mournful wind sighed through the trees, whispering the names of the dead.

    Tears had fallen from broken statues, their faces frozen in an eternal lament,
    As vines of despair coiled around forgotten graves,
    And the moon had cast its pallid glow upon the crumbling walls of forgotten chapels,
    Where echoes of dismal laments lingered like ghosts in the mist.

    In that desolate place, where time itself had seemed to abandon its course,
    The air was replete with sorrow, heavy with undisclosed secrets.
    The raven had perched high above, its eyes reflecting a darkness deeper than the night,
    Watching with cold indifference as ghouls wandered aimlessly below.

    No solace had been found in that ruinous haven,
    Only the faint murmur of lost hope, swallowed by the abyss of time.
    The candles that once burned bright in the halls of joy had long since flickered out,
    Leaving only the void to claim what was left of a shattered heart.

    Amidst the ruins, a sculpture had stood cloaked in mourning,
    Its face hidden beneath a veil of grief,
    Waiting, always waiting, for the return of what was never meant to last.
    And so the night had stretched on, endless and unforgiving,
    As the world slowly forgot everything, what had remained within those walls were only fragments of pang.

    The ancient doors had creaked, their hinges rusted with centuries of neglect,
    Opening to a hall draped in shadow, where silence reigned supreme.
    Cobwebs had veiled forgotten portraits, faces blurred by time’s cruel hand,
    Their eyes had seemed to follow, scrutinising, though none were left to speak.

    Each stair step seemed to bend through the emptiness, a faint reminder of those who had tread there before,
    Doomed to wander, searching for deliverance in a place forsaken by light.
    The stained glass windows, splintered and dim, had wept colours long faded,
    Casting spectral hues on the cold stone floor like fragments of a shattered past.

    A faint susurration had dwelled in the hollow corridors—
    It did not belong anymore to any living entity but only to broken vows and wrecked promises.
    Words had been lost in the wind, although the pain had still lingered in that eerie domain,
    A haunting refrain of love betrayed, of hearts sundered by the cruel hand of fate.

    There, beneath the weight of centuries, the walls themselves had seemed to whimper,
    As if they remembered every misery that had passed within their embrace.
    The ceiling, a vault of darkness, had offered no stars to guide the lost,
    Only the oppressive heaviness of forgotten dreams trapped in endless night.

    Beyond the hall had lain a forgotten vault where stones and crystals had stood vigil,
    Like haunting faces turned heavenward in silent, mournful invocations.
    But no utopia had answered their plea; the sky above had remained as cold and indifferent
    As the graves, offering neither comfort nor release.

    There, the cold soil itself had seemed to breathe with ancient dread,
    A slow, shuddering sigh beneath the feet of those who had dared to tread.
    Gravestones had tilted and cracked, their inscriptions worn smooth by the passage of time,
    And, all those mortal names had been forgotten; their suffering had remained etched in the wind.

    Fragments of pang had wandered, lost among the tombstones and ruins,
    As solitary wraiths in a world of decay, bound to the pain of what once was.
    Since in that place, time had held no meaning, no mercy, only the endless march of despair,
    As the night had stretched on, unyielding, beneath the weight of a cruel and cynical fate.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Dreadful Dreams

    Dreadful Dreams

    Dreadful dreams in darkness brewed,
    The world outside in silence stewed.
    A chill hung thick as whispers weaved,
    Through hollow halls, where none believed.

    A castle loomed, its walls decayed,
    Where time had stopped and light delayed.
    Through labyrinths that none had known,
    They wandered there, each one alone.

    Figures rose from meadows like thorns,
    With eyes that bled and voices steeped,
    In sorrows long since left unsaid,
    Now, pulling dreamers to the dead.

    Dreadful dreams, where shadows crept,
    Beneath their lids, no restful sleep.
    The night grew cold, the visions swayed,
    In twisted forms, the mind was betrayed.

    No way to flee, no path to run,
    For night devoured every sun.
    The walls grew impenetrable, the air was poison,
    And trapped everyone in an endless prison.

    In the silence, whispers of fright,
    Haunted souls wander, lost from sight.
    Each gust a toil, each step a plight,
    As darkness consumed every fading light.

    Dreadful dreams, where mirrors cracked,
    And whispers from the void slammed.
    A thousand clouds lost in space,
    All seeking what they couldn’t chase.

    Souls entwined with endless fear,
    Never to wake, forever near.
    The moon, once full, was now cracked and pale,
    Its silver light began to fail.

    And as the fading shades crept,
    The dreamers into silence wept.
    The night consumed all hopes and screams,
    And left them bound to dreadful dreams.

    Dreadful dreams wandered like shades of night,
    Whispered softly beneath dark skies.
    Each dwelling became a fearsome sight,
    As shadows moved in the dimming light.

    Desires entwined with seizing dread,
    Wandering everywhere, but hope had fled.
    Each secret carried tales of woe,
    As spectres flickered, fast and slow.

    In the gloom, no spark remained,
    No bright memory could have been preserved.
    The dreamers sought the light once more,
    But shadows beckoned from the shore.

    Dreadful dreams chased every fleeting glow,
    Finding themselves in depths below.
    With every instant, the darkness grew,
    A truth obscured, a world askew.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Abyss of Death

    The Abyss of Death

    The Abyss of Death
    by Esther Elizabeth Racah

    Then came the abyss of death, deep and wide,
    Where all must fall, where none could hide.
    The abyss of death, it called to stars,
    A silent plea, eternally.
    In that endless chasm, the longing was laid to sleep.
    The void embraced lost regret,
    And whispered, “Here, soon forget.”

    The cold was vast, the dark complete,
    And close behind, it hurt so endearing.
    For death, it took it all,
    Secret longings for lost hopes fell.
    The void consumed what life remained,
    And left behind the husks of pain.
    A hollow shell of what was,
    Now drifting in eternity.

    Finally, in that dark, quiet peace,
    A welcome end, a soft release.
    The chains of life that bound the soul,
    Were broken as control was lost.
    And though the blackness held tight,
    There was no fear; no light was seen.
    For, in the end, all must face,
    The emptiness of death’s embrace.

    The abyss keeps waiting for every heart,
    To draw in, to tear apart.
    What once was love, or hope, or fear,
    It was swallowed by the depths so near.
    No longer was there a yearning to see,
    For death has stolen that away.
    And in the abyss of death, wide and vast,
    Peace and rest were finally found.

    In that abyss, where none return,
    The fires of life no longer burn.
    All that was, now shadows thin,
    A spectre lost in an endless spin.
    Memories that once were clear,
    Are fading echoes, far from here.
    The void cradled every thought,
    Until there was no more to be sought.

    And so it sailed, no longer bound,
    By mortal coils or earthly sound.
    No time, no space, no fear, no care,
    Just an endless night, just empty air.
    What lay beyond was not known,
    For in this abysm, growth ceased.
    The abyss of death claimed the final breath,
    And there, the stillness of the end was found.

  • The Cage of Unending Nightmares

    The Cage of Unending Nightmares

    The cage of unending nightmares,
    Enclosed within a prison of steel,
    A soul once bright faced a dark ordeal.
    Nightmares surged from every seam,
    Shattering the remnants of a dream.

    Bars of dread, shadows’ clasp,
    Held fast within the cage’s grasp.
    Each night, a canvas of frightful scenes,
    Painted with horrors and broken dreams.

    Faces twisted in agony,
    Haunted the cage with chilling glee.
    The air was thick with a mournful moan,
    A prison where the mind stood alone.

    Screams echoed through the hollow night,
    As phantoms danced in the pale moonlight.
    Each breath a shudder, steeped in fear,
    Each heartbeat echoed despair near.

    The cage’s walls, once firm and strong,
    Felt the weight of the suffering throng.
    Restlessness took hold, creeping in,
    As nightmares spun their haunting spin.

    The nights grew longer, shadows tall,
    Each one an echo of a desperate call.
    In the darkness, sanity frayed,
    As the soul’s hope began to fade.

    Each fleeting dream dissolved into black,
    In the cage’s grip, there was no going back.
    Freedom was but a distant scream,
    Lost in the heart of a shattered dream.

    Through endless nights of searing pain,
    The soul endured but felt the strain.
    The cage of nightmares, a ceaseless snare,
    Held captive in its cruel lair.

    In the silence that followed, a sombre truth,
    A reminder of lost youth.
    The cage’s shadows left their mark,
    A testament to dreams gone dark.

    The iron bars, a grim embrace,
    Marked the soul’s forsaken space.
    In the stillness, memories weep,
    Their echoes haunt the cage’s keep.

    Within the silence, dread lingers still,
    A ghostly reminder of fate’s cruel will.
    The cage’s shadows left their scar,
    A cruel remnant of dreams afar.

    In the aftermath, a solemn truth,
    A reminder of lost youth.
    The cage’s shadows left their mark,
    A testament to dreams gone dark.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Eternal Nightfall

    Eternal Nightfall

    Eternal nightfall in a world where shadows long did cling,
    A tale of sorrow began to be chanted.
    Under the cloak of darkness, despair ruled the night,
    A story of fate so cruel and senseless.

    A figure wandered, lost in plight,
    In haunted woods devoid of light.
    Each step was plump, each instant of life a duty,
    An ethereal ghost condemned forevermore.

    The stars cast down their eerie glare,
    On sights once bright, now dulled by dread.
    With every beat, the hearts did weep,
    For dreams that perished in shadows deep.

    The voice of the wind would moan,
    Of hopes that died and were left forsaken.
    No star was left above to guide the way,
    Just endless nights, no break of day.

    In twisted branches, secrets were kept,
    Of promises that fate had swept.
    An existence once vibrant was now a shell,
    A captive in an earthly nightmare.

    Eternal nightfall, no hope to chase, no dawn to see,
    Bound by chains of cruel decree.
    The echoes of a life once known,
    Now lost to time, forever blown.

    In silence cold, the figure wept,
    For all the dreams that were never kept.
    In the abyss where shadows feasted,
    Desires were ensnared, with no hope of being released.

    For in this tale of sorrow’s thread,
    All light had fled, and all joy was dead.
    So many victims of a fate so grim,
    No chance to fight, no hope within.

    Hence, the end of a tragic lore was determined,
    Once darkness reigned until the end of time.
    In the nothingness most profound, only fragments remained,
    No hope to live, no will to strive.

    In a realm of eternal sorrow and grief,
    Phantoms wept their weakness and frailty.
    No rescue arrived, no hope in sight,
    Only tears upon their hollow facades.

    Eternal nightfall, when the days were shadows and nights were dread,
    A world where even hope had fled.
    The trees whispered of doom and death,
    Their branches formed a sombre wreath.

    Desperate entities wandered through fog and mire,
    Dragging through the remnants of a pyre.
    The remembrance of a life once bright,
    Now completely swallowed by an eternal night.

    Memories of delight, now decayed,
    In the recesses of betrayed truths,
    Broken and erased dreams,
    A cruel fate with no redeeming seams.

    Haunted gazes envisioned ghouls by chance,
    In a cruel and mocking trance.
    They taunted with their spectral glee,
    Reminders of what could not be.

    The stars above had once been guides so clearly,
    Now distant, heartless, and filled with fear.
    Their light, a dagger to the heart,
    A cruel reminder, worlds apart.

    Eternal nightfall, each heartbeat was a painful toll,
    A bell that rang for a tortured soul.
    The silence screamed in endless waves,
    Echoing through forgotten graves.

    No voices came to soothe the night,
    No comfort for the endless plight.
    The shadows whispered tales of doom,
    Of lives confined to eternal gloom.

    In this world of sorrow, bleak and vast,
    The invisible hope was a long outcast.
    No light to pierce the suffocating haze,
    No dawn to break the endless daze.

    The ghost knelt in a silent plea,
    To force dark to misery.
    With nothing left, no strength to fight,
    Embracing the eternal night.

    Being this tale a cruel design,
    No threads of fate would intertwine.
    The end was near, a gust away,
    No expectancy to see another day.

    Eternal nightfall, in shadows profound, a final sigh,
    A soul surrendered a whispered cry.
    In the darkness, it forever lay,
    No desire to live, no light to stay.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Annihilated Dreams

    The Annihilated Dreams

    The annihilated dreams dwelled in the realm of betrayal and deception,
    Where hope and sorrow had intertwined and bided,
    The night was thick with spectral dread,
    A night sky where the lost were spread.

    The dreams, once vibrant, now lay broken,
    In the silence, their voices were unspoken,
    Their fragments scattered on the frigid soil,
    Vestiges of what had been before.

    The clock ticked on with a mournful sound,
    In this realm where despair was bound,
    The instants moved slowly, the hours dragged,
    Each minute draped in a ghostly shroud ragged.

    The walls, adorned with faded scenes,
    Of fractured hopes and broken dreams,
    Bore witness to the endless plight,
    Of souls who had lost their way in the night.

    The bed, once soft, now cold and bare,
    Was where the restless spirits stared,
    Their eyes wide open lost in fright,
    As they wandered through the endless night.

    The mirror’s shards reflected the pain,
    A thousand tears, a thousand stains,
    Each piece a glimpse of sorrow’s grip,
    A tale of dreams that could not slip.

    The night descended with a mantle of grey,
    The ghosts of dreams refused to sway,
    They lingered in the darkened room,
    A remembrance of sorrow’s gloom.

    In this realm of endless night,
    Where annihilated dreams had lost their fight,
    The echoes of despair were clear,
    In the silence, they drew near.

    In this forsaken land of deep shadows,
    Where endless nights denied sleep,
    The whispers of the fallen dreams,
    Intertwined with silent screams.

    In the corners, darkness loomed,
    Echoes of despair, they bloomed,
    Phantom voices softly sighed,
    In the silence, sorrow bided.

    The moon, a silent witness there,
    Cast its glow on souls laid bare,
    The weight of grief, a heavy shroud,
    Covered all, both low and proud.

    In this bleak and haunted space,
    Dreams and hope had lost their grace.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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