Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: lost love

  • In Desolation And Affliction

    In Desolation And Affliction

    In desolation and affliction, I was left viciously by my wicked fate
    Hopeless and deserted by all my dreams as if I were not worthy of bliss and ecstasy
    Delighted to let my senses abandon every type of wisdom
    I stopped to chase what couldn’t be mine forever
    Hence, all my crimson roses began to wither
    They become obsidian blossoms like the deepest night
    I could only sigh and weep surrounded by the skulls of my memories

    Ancient skulls and black roses all around me
    They became my guardian angels watching me closely
    They were the witnesses of my defeat and decline
    My virtues became my blemishes and I became a demon of myself
    I was a terrifying ghoul of the darkness, hunting dreams and love
    Nevertheless, I wouldn’t be able to catch dreams or love
    Being both of them out of reach for me who I was a simple creature of nightmares

    I even chased my own shadow in vain but I couldn’t find it
    Because I had no shadow and no soil
    My heart was filled with poison and decay
    There was no more space for love and delight
    The perpetual state of grief and misery transformed me into a spirit of dismay
    I embodied sorrow and every teardrop of mine was extinguished
    I had lost everything so dear to me
    I had lost everyone so loved by me
    I had lost myself in obsessions and wickedness

    I had to die several times in order to be born again and again
    How many times have I died?
    I never remembered it because each time my heart embraced death I lost my mind to an amnesia
    Thorns and brambles carved on my body arcane messages of wreckage and doom
    I have felt doomed all life long with no redemption or faded hope
    I was just a ghost of despair and nothing more
    In desolation and affliction, I’ve found my eternal respite and I surrendered to pursue all of my dreams and desires all at once.
    Elisabetta

  • The Garden of Sighs

    The Garden of Sighs

    The garden of sighs was a lush secret alcove where, for each sigh, a blossom bloomed in all its exquisite beauty.
    It was a realm of lost dreams and decayed love, with the sweetest scent of death and darkness swallowing every colour.
    The only light that could penetrate such an abyss of nightmares was the faded glimmer of stardust.

    Fears and teardrops adorned the withering petals magnificently; each droplet was a crystallised fragment of sorrow glistening like fallen stars caught in a web of despair. Glooms and touches of melancholy weaved themselves like visions through the tangled vines, curling around each bud as if to protect the enigmas buried in the bleeding soil nourished by the vestiges of forsaken love.

    All the flowers were soaked with desire and lust; their delicate and fragile fragrant petals were trembling under the weight of an ethereal woe. Each blossom seemed to sigh as though haunted, exhaling moans of lost love and regrets into the murky atmosphere. They clung to the bleeding soil, rooted in sorrow and cherished by the very tears that had moistened them.

    The garden of sighs became a lush realm of lust and decay, where the ephemeral sound of sobs of torment entangled with howls of anguish. The carved and darkened trees were hollow havens for eerie wraiths, keeping the arcane secrets of this metaphysical niche, which no wanderer could ever have visited.

    For eternity, this mysterious alcove remained untouched, a forbidden sanctuary beyond the reach of mortal gazes and meddling hearts. And so, the garden of sighs existed—eternal, unseen, a realm untouched by starlight. It lay concealed within the shroud of night, where beauty mingled with the decay of despair.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Mansion of Anguish

    The Mansion of Anguish

    The mansion of anguish was filled with flowers of dread,
    Sighs echoed in each empty chamber like merry butterflies,
    The scent of betrayal penetrated every crevice of this eerie dwelling,
    As a consequence of broken vows and promises.

    The name of love has been desecrated, and love itself has been obliterated,
    In an extinguished fire, vestiges of mirth were lying,
    Buried underneath a stack of piles of ashes and blood,
    And the pain was carved on each stone.

    Hushed sobs created a fountain of dismay and grief,
    Where solitary souls had the habit of indulging secretly,
    Waiting for their lovers who were never supposed to come back,
    In a frolic of delusional hallucinations and cruel fate.

    In the middle of the night, farewell left their signs on the decayed walls and shattered mirrors,
    Leaving mere remembrances of broken hearts and aborted dreams,
    Beneath the obsessive moonlight, whose frantic light gleams stroke perpetually the dead flowers in the garden,
    While this realm of decay sparkled magnificently in all its darkness.

    Repetitive laments bloomed like blossoms of death,
    Since the mansion of anguish and sorrow emerged as a monument to decadence,
    And every star hid itself from the insistent stare of the moon’s pale and haunting gaze,
    Shadows of forsaken and lost lovers lingered, whispering fragments of unfulfilled desires and regrets into the hollow aura.

    Each murmur was enthralled by the walls that held infinite teardrops of agony,
    And every silent portrait, dimmed by epochs of neglect, seemed to weep silently in unison with the affliction around them.
    The desolate wind sighed through all the halls, shallowing the ruins of destroyed trinkets that once held sentimental bargains.
    The mansion of anguish became a despondent residence engulfed in an eternal night.
    It stood as a forgotten memorial to love’s betrayal and decay, where beauty had endlessly perished, leaving only a ghostly vestige in its haunted place.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Flowers of Lust

    Flowers of Lust

    Flowers of lust bloomed with passion and love,
    In a lush garden teeming with beauty and sublimity.
    Not even the rain dared touch this magical, magnificent realm,
    Where all dreams always come true.

    Anguish began to poison that ethereal world,
    Each raindrop became a drop of venom and grief,
    Killing all the flowers of lust and leaving the garden a deserted place,
    Where shadows and darkness started to rule.

    Hope faded like the sun’s dying glow,
    As gloominess swallowed the once-enchanted realm.
    The wind carried tales of forgotten euphoria,
    Now replaced by the wails of misery’s presence.

    A veil of sorrow draped over every path,
    Once adorned with roses, now thorns remained.
    The sky, once azure, turned to ominous dark grey,
    And silence grew louder than the softest pain.

    The lovers who feasted in the garden’s embrace,
    Became mere phantoms, vestiges of the remote past.
    Their merriment twisted into haunting laments,
    As the night’s cold grasp on their souls was cast.

    This forsaken place transformed into a castle of rumbles,
    Each remembrance was a reminder of love’s decay.
    No gentle breeze, no floral perfume in the air,
    Only the scent of death would not sway.

    The garden became a grave for passion’s bloom,
    Lay barren, broken, a cradle for despair.
    No longer a haven for hearts to unite,
    But a tomb where love withered, unaware.

    Wilted petals and shattered dreams are all that remain,
    Fragments of a life now lost in vain.
    Each star above seemed to mock the plight,
    Of a paradise torn apart at the seams.

    Amidst the ruins and obliteration,
    The eternal darkness still cast its poisonous spell,
    And gloaming clouds devoured every hopeful bloom.
    No life could flourish in this place of despair,
    A garden trapped in its endless, tragic plight.

    The flowers of lust forever lost their allure,
    As night swallowed day and banished the light.
    In this realm of sorrow, nothing survived,
    Not love, nor joy, nor the faintest gleam,
    But only the fragments of shattered dreams.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Bride of Night

    The Bride of Night

    The bride of night hid beneath the veil of an endless night,
    A castle loomed in the dying light,
    Its spires clawing the storm-torn sky,
    Where whispers of forgotten souls still cry.

    The moon, a phantom, pale and weak,
    Hanged in the sky, too cold to speak,
    Its silver gaze fell hard on stone,
    Where shadows gathered, dark and alone.

    The wind it moaned through hollow halls,
    Brushing against the ancient walls,
    Each corner filled with a chilling dread,
    A monument to the long-lost dead.

    Within, a figure roamed the gloom,
    A spectre bound to eternal doom,
    Her eyes, once bright, were hollowed now,
    A crown of sorrow upon her brow.

    She wandered through forgotten rooms,
    Her footsteps were lost in the echoing tombs,
    Searching for a love long passed,
    A memory that time could never cast.

    The candles flickered, faded, and died,
    As shadows danced and serpents lay,
    While silence reigned in its darkest form,
    And dread became the only norm.

    In this castle, time froze still,
    A kingdom lost to an ancient will,
    Where love and hope had long decayed,
    And only shadows in sorrow stayed.

    So here she lingered, bound by fate,
    In this eternal, cursed estate,
    The queen of grief, the bride of night,
    Forever lost in endless blight.

    Her voice, a whisper carried by the wind,
    Calls out for a lover that fate rescinded.
    But the cold, dead halls returned no sound,
    Only silence reigned supreme where grief was crowned.

    The raven watched from its perch on high,
    A witness to the mournful sky,
    While the castle walls decayed and broke,
    As time devoured, all love’s mistakes.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Eternal Mourning

    The Eternal Mourning

    The eternal mourning ruled through the mist,
    Where an eerie chapel stood,
    In barren lands of forgotten names,
    Its windows wept with shattered glass,
    As time drifted by, yet never passed.

    The bell, once vibrant, was now silent and cold,
    But it echoed faintly with lingering souls,
    Who wandered through this hallowed ground,
    In silence where no peace could have been found.

    The graves, untended, cracked and bare,
    Hold names erased by time’s cruel air,
    And ivy crawled like fingers cold,
    Around the stones where death took hold.

    A shadow moved among the tombs,
    A bride in black with eyes like moons,
    Her veil, a shroud of endless grief,
    Her heart was forever without relief.

    She searched for the one she had lost,
    Her love was consumed by death’s harsh frost.
    In this eternal mourning, with every step, the earth sighed low,
    A dirge for those who’ll never know.

    Her tears fell softly on the stone,
    For here she walked, forever alone,
    Bound to this mournful, endless night,
    A ghost within the pale moonlight.

    No prayers will ever reach this land so cursed,
    No love reborn, no life reversed,
    And as she trod this path of sorrow,
    A journey where the sun will never greet tomorrow.

    The chapel whispered of faded vows,
    Of love turned ash beneath the boughs.
    A raven perched on a cross,
    A silent watcher of her loss.

    She lingered where the shadows crept,
    In search of dreams that death will forever keep,
    Eternally bound, her heart enchained,
    A ghost of the dark profaned.

    The roses, once red, became black as night,
    Their petals crushed beneath her flight.
    In endless circles, she will roam,
    This graveyard of her heart, her home.

    The stars were blind, the moon had fled,
    For in this eternal mourning, the living walked with the dead.
    And she, a bride without a groom,
    Wandered still through this eternal gloom.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Desolation and Sadness

    Desolation and Sadness

    Desolation and sadness blossomed in a time when the tree of joy died,
    Before, the winds turned cold and cruel.
    The days were bright, but shadows prospered,
    And silence ruled in every room.

    The flowers once bloomed in glimmering lights,
    Their petals soft, their fragrance sweet,
    But seasons shifted, and they withered,
    As if the soil no longer cared to greet.

    The sky had held a shade of blue,
    A canvas where the clouds would play,
    But soon, it faded into grey,
    As mirth dissolved and dreams decayed.

    There had been a symphony of fondness in every glimmer,
    And love’s embrace was powerful and infallible.
    But hearts grew detached, hands untied,
    Leaving behind an obscure emptiness.

    The roads once bustled with busy steps,
    Crammed with the hum of life’s embrace.
    Now, only memories passed through walls,
    And loneliness had found its realm.

    The ocean once danced beneath the sun,
    Its waves created a melody of endless bliss.
    But now the shores stood bare and cold,
    Untouched by light, untouched by ardour.

    There was a time when longings were alive,
    Their sounds were so pure, their wings so light,
    Nonetheless, soon, their melodies went lost in the darkness,
    Swept away by endless nights.

    The stars had shone like scattered gems,
    Guiding the way through life’s enigmas,
    However, shortly, their light was swallowed whole,
    By darkened skies, their lustre was gone.

    Those who once believed in futures bright,
    With paths that led to beautiful shores.
    They became tired of those dreams that were left lying in the dust,
    Forgotten tales of what once soared.

    There had been smiles and giggles,
    Faded promises of days to arrive.
    But sorrow settled in their place,
    And every gust felt cold and numb.

    The past was filled with tender grace,
    A world untouched by grief’s decay.
    But time moved on, and all that was loved
    It was swept like ash and blown away.

    Desolation and sadness claimed the fields of green,
    Where no more hearts alive could have been chased,
    Indeed, now those fields lay barren, bare,
    Where joy had existed, now misery took its siege.

    The wind that brought hymns of happiness
    Suddenly, it only carried the weight of tears.
    The songs of delight and love
    Fell silent through the passing years.

    There was a remote and ancient time,
    When kindness bloomed like a springtime flower,
    But cruelty’s frost had killed the bloom,
    And shadows stretched with thriving power.

    The sun that warmed every realm
    Fell from the sky in silent grief,
    And all that once was full of life
    Fell prey to time’s relentless thief.

    In the end, only desolation and sadness lingered here,
    Of all things that went lost, of all those dreams that were known.
    Desolation ruled the land,
    And sadness bloomed where hope once grew.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • A Sour Betrayal

    A Sour Betrayal

    A sour betrayal in a time long past, in deep shadows,
    Where secrets lay, and sorrows slept,
    There stood a mansion of ancient stone,
    A place where bitter winds had blown.

    The walls were cold, the air was hazy,
    With memories that made hearts sick,
    Of love once bright, now turned to ash,
    In the wake of sour betrayal’s lash.

    Sighs and cries had filled the air,
    Promises made with tender care,
    But trust was broken, hearts were torn,
    Leaving behind souls forlorn.

    In every chamber and hallway, silence screamed,
    Of broken dreams and hopes redeemed,
    By pain that lingered, never fled,
    A sour betrayal, darkly fed.

    The garden where roses bloomed,
    Now lay in shadows, deeply gloomed,
    Each petal withered, touched by grief,
    A reminder of love, all too brief.

    Mysterious portraits with downcast eyes,
    Stared blankly at the clouded skies,
    Their painted smiles, now masks of woe,
    Reflected tales of long ago.

    The once warm hearth, now cold and dead,
    Held ashes of words long shredded,
    Of love so fleeting, never sincere,
    Now dead leaves in the night’s cold dew.

    A sour betrayal echoed down the halls,
    A ghostly reminder of love’s fall,
    Each instant a memory of the day,
    When trust and hope were stripped away.

    In the attic’s dusty gloom,
    Where sunlight never pierced the room,
    A letter lay with words of pain,
    A final note of love’s disdain.

    By candlelight, it had been penned,
    A lover’s promise met its end,
    The ink, now faded, still revealed,
    The sour betrayal, unconcealed.

    The clock’s slow ticks marked time’s cruel hand,
    A steady beat, a sorrowed strand,
    Of moments lost, of nights in tears,
    Of dreams destroyed by silent fears.

    The house stood in ghostly light,
    A monument to love’s lost fight,
    In shadows deep, where sorrow crept,
    The tale of sour betrayal slept.

    Echoes of giggles rang,
    In haunted halls where shadows hung,
    Of days when love was pure and bright,
    Now cloaked in the eternal night.

    The mirror in the hallway’s gloom,
    Reflected nought but endless doom,
    A visage marred by time’s cruel jest,
    A once whole heart was now dispossessed.

    Curtains drawn, the windows wept,
    For promises that were not kept,
    The rain against the glass pane sighed,
    A sorrowful song of love that died.

    In the corner, an old chair stood,
    A silent witness understood,
    The weight of memories, sorrow-spun,
    Of days when two had loved as one.

    The cellar door, once tightly sealed,
    Now opened to a past revealed,
    Of whispered lies and secret trysts,
    Of love’s betrayal in the mists.

    The wind outside began to wail,
    A mournful tune, a woeful tale,
    Of love once cherished, now despised,
    Of trust betrayed, and hope capsized.

    Through every crack and crevice there,
    The essence of despair and care,
    Seeped into the night’s embrace,
    A bitter taste, a cold, dark place.

    The moonlight cast a silver sheen,
    On remnants of what had been,
    A love story, twisted, broken,
    By sour betrayal’s silent token.

    The attic held a chest of dreams,
    Now shattered by deceit’s dark schemes,
    The letters, trinkets, memories dear,
    All tainted by betrayal’s smear.

    So, in that mansion of ancient stone,
    Where bitter winds had always blown,
    The tale of love, once bright and clear,
    It was stained by betrayal’s darkest hue.

    In every chamber, the shadows wept,
    For promises that were not kept,
    The echoes of a love gone sour,
    Resounded in the midnight hour.

    The house, a tomb of memories,
    Of broken hearts and lost decrees,
    Became the legacy of love’s demise,
    A sombre tale beneath the skies in disguise.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Forsaken Lighthouse

    The Forsaken Lighthouse

    The forsaken lighthouse stood on a cliff,
    Where waves crashed below, and cold winds blew,
    Its beacon, once a guiding light,
    Now darkened by eternal night.

    The keeper’s ghost walked the stairs,
    His heart was a web of deep despairs,
    With each step, his sorrow increased,
    In the lighthouse, where no light glimmered.

    His love was lost to the sea’s embrace,
    A tragic time that could not have been erased,
    He waited for her on stormy nights,
    In shadows deep, beneath moonlight.

    The foghorn moans, a mournful sound,
    A cry for souls lost and unfound,
    The sea whispered tales of woe,
    Of lives claimed by its undertow.

    The lantern room, a silent tomb,
    Where once a flame cut through the gloom,
    Now dark and cold, it held his pain,
    In every drop of sorrow’s rain.

    He tended a lamp that never burned,
    In endless nights, his spirit yearned,
    For a return, a hopeless dream,
    In the lighthouse, where shadows screamed.

    The waves crashed hard against the rock,
    Their fury met with silent shock,
    His ghostly formed, a shade of silver,
    A heart that’s lost, a soul in the fray.

    The seagulls cried, a haunting plea,
    Above the dark, relentless sea,
    Their wings a blur against the sky,
    In mournful flight, they, too, must have died.

    The forsaken lighthouse lost forever its beacon’s glow,
    Besotted by the sorrow that ruled infamously,
    For in that tower, shadows dwelled,
    Of love lost to the ocean’s swell.

    Beneath the stars, his vigil kept,
    As tides rose high and darkness crept,
    The ghostly keeper, bound by fate,
    In sorrow’s grasp, he’d always have to wait.

    A presence in the mist so pale,
    A love-lorn ghost, a mournful tale,
    The forsaken lighthouse stood as a monument,
    To love and loss, forever spent,
    An unextinguished flame to the broken-hearted lost in the gale.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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