Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: lost

  • Perpetually Lost

    Perpetually Lost

    Perpetually Lost

    Perpetually lost in the neverness of hopes
    It cannot be back what is forever lost
    They cannot be back those who nevermore will find a real dimension
    Once they are in another realm
    The lugubrious grief is not an amiable counterpart at most
    Being a shadow of every memory and prospect
    An encomiastical tale of a glorious bliss
    Eternally lost in a furtive instant
    A surreal and silent melody
    Stolen by the wind of the emotions
    Far-fetched beliefs of an idyll
    The need to trust a tainted truth fell into the abyss of misery
    And comfort can only be achieved in constant oblivion.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Disgrace Of A Final Illusion

    The Disgrace Of A Final Illusion

    The Disgrace Of A Final Illusion

    The disgrace of a final illusion when the whisper of the wind shakes the slumbering soul
    With no possibility of redemption and no chance of return
    The darkness of the void conceals a hidden truth
    A vile disdain for guileless oblivion is intertwined with ambitious wisdom whose vanity fades away in the ethereal
    Nothing is lost once every trace of memory is completely erased
    Silent and invisible is the world of the imaginations and dreams
    The realm of the lost souls is entangled in a labyrinth of fantasies
    Where chimaeras become the fatal snares of forsaken souls.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Uncertainty Of A Lost Dream

    The Uncertainty Of A Lost Dream

    The Uncertainty Of A Lost Dream

    The uncertainty of a lost dream in the realm of the blankness
    In the most remote place of the imagination
    Where every soul gets lost in the labyrinth of the darkness
    When it seems that every hope vanished and every clarity had been erased
    The silence whispers all the secrets that hover in the ethereal
    Where the deception and the honesty blend together, creating a profanity of senses
    Confusion and bewilderment become the sweet refuge of the dejected souls
    Miserable is the foul frolic of the spirits that lost themselves in the maze of the stupor
    Like in an endless nightmare that might fade as soon as the hallucinations vanish away
    When the torpor ceases to feed every spirited soul, once the despair rules the realm of the imperceptible.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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