Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: masks

  • The Mask Of Illusion

    The Mask Of Illusion

    The mask of illusion hid behind an ephemeral mirth
    Whenever I tried to pick the sublime flowers of joy
    Pretending that I could be worthy of happiness and hope

    Only in my dreams, I could see my confined heart
    In a cage made of crystal and gold
    From which it could never be set free
    Because the destiny of my soul was doomed forever to indifference and distress

    That was the reason I fed myself with the poison of illusions
    Illusions hiding behind a mask of conventional pretences
    I’ve always loved lying to myself

    In the rush for survival, I forgot my real name
    Getting lost amidst the euphoric frenzy of fleeting instants
    I did let myself dissolve in the labyrinth of shadows

    The mask of illusion became deformed and heavier
    And underneath it, there was only a haze of darkness
    A void where once upon a time there was a glowing light

    Silence replaced hopes and desires
    And I forgot the sight of truth and reality
    The spell of bitter lies had enchanted me

    Hence, my despair grew deeper in the garden of thorns
    A secret garden where no flower of joy could ever bloom
    The mask of illusion and deceit sunk deep into the cold soil, made of fragments of shattered delusions

    No soul would ever find this kingdom of nowhere
    Impenetrable and invisible to ordinary sight
    This magic realm of enigmas and secrets concealed every untruth and illusion
    Though every fragment of it was woven from fallacies, for all the masks of illusion lay buried beneath

    Surprised no more
    I surrendered to the sweet lullabies coming from each flower
    With the certitude that I was one of my dreams

    Victim of my own hallucinations
    I wandered endlessly through the spectral haze of my illusions
    Surrounded by the decay of faded memories that lingered like lost ghosts
    Never to return to my forsaken reality.
    Elisabetta

  • Unopened Pages

    Unopened Pages

    Beyond the cover, realms await, unseen,
    In every book, a path to what has been.
    However, here prejudice stands, with its labels in the hands,
    Dismissing truths, it barely understands.

    The minds that bind themselves with endless chains,
    Are deaf to stories’ wisdom and knowledge gained.
    They close the book before it’s fully read,
    Content with titles, names, and what’s been said.

    But truth defies the cages they create,
    It bends beyond the lines that separate.
    For every story written holds a key,
    To unlock hearts and set the spirit free.

    To judge an essence by labels is to miss
    The depth of life, the beauty in the abyss.
    The page that holds the answers lies untorn,
    Nevertheless, senses stay closed, and ignorance is born.

    Beneath the ink, shadows twist and creep,
    Murmurs from forgotten worlds sleep.
    The words, like phantoms, haunt each line,
    Begging to be freed from the threads of time.

    More than the surface, deeper should they dive,
    For in those words, the most trustworthy self survives.
    The books unopened hold a thousand skies,
    And in their pages, prejudice defies.

    The label shouldn’t blind crowds from the tale,
    For in the written word, all hearts prevail.
    To open books is more than just a task,
    It frees the soul from every mask.

    And as the pages crackle in the night,
    A ghostly hand beckons toward the light.
    No thought confined, no mortal boxed away,
    For every story lives beyond the fray.
    The truth of existence cannot be simply named,
    It’s written comprehensively, with words that can’t be tamed.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Realm of Nightmares

    The Realm of Nightmares

    The realm of nightmares, beneath the cold and silver grin of the stars,
    Treading through passages of dread,
    Where shadows writhe, and walls grow thin,
    As whispers crawl from ear to head.

    The clock unmakes each moment’s tread,
    Time drips to dust and fades away,
    The voices of the ancient dead,
    Their chilling grins lead unfortunates astray.

    A sky of crimson, decadent with ash,
    Hangs heavy over this broken realm,
    The earth beneath begins to thrash,
    As claws reach up through cursed sand.

    Wandering through the realm of nightmares,
    Locked away in endless nights,
    Where every step, each haunted lair,
    Steeped in sorrow, drenched in fright.

    No solace here, no peace of mind,
    In this dark realm, the soul’s alone,
    Where horrors bloom grotesque, unkind,
    And terror sinks deep to the bone.

    A scream escapes, but silence reigns,
    A ghostly sound that’s never heard,
    While stars above ignite with flames,
    And burn away the final remark.

    With every moment, the walls collapse,
    The floor beneath bends and snaps,
    The realm of nightmares, vast and infinite,
    No start, no end—just shattered maps.

    The trees are twisted, black and bare,
    Their limbs reach out with claws of spite,
    From their breath, bitter winds ensnare,
    Extinguishing the newborn light.

    No dawn will come to end this storm,
    No morning’s grace to chase the gloom,
    For in the realm of nightmares, no light takes form,
    And shadows haunt each quiet room.

    Eyes burn like coals in masks grim,
    Their gaze, the deepest, darkest dread,
    And though they wear a thousand shrouds,
    Not one of them was indeed dead.

    They form from phantoms, born of fear,
    Each nightmare weaves from horror’s thread,
    Their breath, the wind; their voice sings clear,
    Of sleepless nights and waking dread.

    The ground below turns into clay,
    It pulls all down into its strand,
    Where darkness swallows the light of day,
    And reason cracks like brittle sand.

    Falling, falling—there is no end,
    No waking from this cursed blight,
    For in the realm of nightmares, the rules will bend,
    And all are trapped in endless nights.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • I Forgot How To Smile

    I Forgot How To Smile

    I forgot how to smile
    In this world of pain and disguise
    Masks and phantoms are all around
    Barely pretending to unleash the truth
    When mirrors reflect sparkling golden and silver bonds

    I forgot how to be free
    Not falling into beautified traps with magnificent ceilings
    Listening to the real sound of the wind
    Whenever I breathe the fresh air of solitude
    Dizzy and bewildered in a maze of deception and pitfalls

    I forgot how to fly
    And cover my eyes with the leaves of souvenirs
    Forgetting my name and the soil where I walk on
    Nonsense should be my wisdom
    Until I recognise the beauty of invisibility

    Claustrophobic fears deceive me
    Erasing all the strength I own
    Striving to filter the misery in the lake where I drown
    Silently closing my eyes so that I don’t cry anymore
    Choking in a narrow way where I forgot how to scream

    In the ethereal, unending, and eternal quest
    I seclude myself in the abyss of silence and invisibility
    Unconscious and reckless like a crystal in the deepness of the sea
    No shadows or mirrors are my acquaintances
    With no difference between the day and night

    I forgot how to forget
    Whilst fleeting the shallow castles of idiocy and phenomenon
    Waiting for the paper cards to fold and burn in the fire of fairness
    Once more and forever ignoring the ominous dread of depravity
    Standing like a small leaf falling on the cold soil of the oblivion

    I might have forgotten the slumber of my joyful days
    When I lived in the unconsciousness of my thoughts
    Confident that my soul would be delighted forever in the dimness of the betrayal
    Believing that the toxic clasp of doom would have enlightened my life
    Having become captive to a terrible spectre

    I forgot how to smile with a blank mind and closed eyes
    I might have been able to travel far away
    Once and for all, in the idiosyncratic of my imagination
    Deluding myself in glares and wonders
    When after all, I dwell in a dark hollow, I claim to be my fortress.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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