Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: melancholy

  • The Shadows Of Solitude

    The Shadows Of Solitude

    The shadows of solitude followed me in my endless journey of self-discovery
    No storm or fog could distract my search for the mysteries that my fate dared to hide from my gaze
    Extravagant fantasies appeared as evanescent chimaeras glowing like stars in the darkness of the night
    Ravens and crows gathered around me, whispering arcana secrets to me, as they already possessed the knowledge reserved for immortal spirits
    Even the rain and wind didn’t encounter an effortless manner to rule that kingdom
    Where inky feathers fell all over me while I saw blank mirrors floating like autumn leaves on a pond

    The shadows of solitude guided me in the deepest night in the midst of the misty forest of my dreams
    I followed the trail enlightened by scattered candelabras and poetry rhymes
    My perseverance was unapologetic and I cared only for my own wonder
    Since the day I decided to abandon my bitter memories and leave them in the swamp of my past
    The majestic and fierce vault of a Gothic cathedral hid the vast starry sky, inducing me to listen to the sumptuous melody of an ancient organ
    I felt dizzy as if under a magic spell that had been cast on me by my most hidden desires

    The dimness of my fears vanished immediately as if they never existed and they couldn’t hurt anymore
    So much glistening light I found in the deepest gloominess
    Guided by my untamed heart ready to embrace every unreachable mirage
    I followed the phantasmic echoes of the nocturnal clouds staring at me in my intricate voyage without a specific destination
    Since the day I had willingly lost myself within the mist of my own dreams
    I was no longer startled by my limits because I decided to become infinite and potent like a lone glistening luminary
    Belonging to eternity
    Perfect in my frailties.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • The Night Lies Over Me

    The Night Lies Over Me

    The night lies over me like an immense quilted blanket of stars and gloomy clouds
    Sweet are the whispers of my dreams that welcome me into their magical alcove
    Lost in the depths of my imagination
    I continue to wander in the night
    Unaware of my fate, I am blindfolded on my uncertain path
    Letting the disquiet burn in my heart as if I were a candle in a storm
    I wait for the thorns to turn into feathers in my secret garden of mystery
    Everything is concealed from my eyes
    And I wake up in the haze and turmoil
    In front of me only emptiness and the scent of fear
    How long could I have fed myself on the illusion of my dreams?
    I know not as long as the clouds obscured the stars
    I covet fondly the freedom of birds lingering in the firmament
    I struggle intensely to catch a glimpse of withered flowers and evanescent butterflies
    And the night lies over me again like a layered shroud
    Quietly the wind whispers legends and enchantments
    Taking me into the fantastic realm of chimaeras and the overworld
    Where no mortal soul could be conceived
    Since only fabulous creatures inhabit my fantasy
    Loneliness surrounds me and hushes my eagerness to lose myself easily in the maze of foolishness
    I sense my dreams as the only reality where I am my tangible self
    An ocean filled with delusions and empty shells attempts to swallow my awareness
    The exquisite scent of roses and magnolias cannot rescue me any longer
    Since the oblivion of the night’s desires takes hold of me
    It was too late for me to redeem my heart
    In the solitude of the dusk
    When everything seemed so painfully calm
    Alas, could I finally find myself in the lost abyss of my ineptitude?
    I sigh and dream
    No further wisdom enlightens my vision
    Now that the night lies over me.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Waiting For My Dreams

    Waiting For My Dreams

    Waiting for my dreams to wither like dry flowers
    Constantly sinking into the oblivion of sadness and dizziness
    Unaware of what could happen to my soul
    Having lost every hope to save my dreams
    Finding my sweet haven in my darkest grief
    Slowly avoiding thinking and surrendering to the course of my vicious fate
    I let the ocean waves swallow me into the chasms of unconsciousness
    To avoid seeing the reflection of my memories in mirrors of shady dismay
    The silence of the night lulled me to a deep slumber where I finally could feel peace and gaiety
    My idle heart became a frozen stone full of sand and dust
    Whilst I wandered in the desolate forest of my fears
    Waiting for my dreams to be my only consolation
    For I was aware of the evanescence of the stars gleaming in the night sky
    Indeed, every single anguish of mine became a tiny leaf that the cold breeze lifted away from my gaze
    So quickly was flowing my existence like a tumultuous river that I lost the sense of time
    And I remained therefore languid in a garden without flowers or trees
    A garden of darkness and shadows where no mortal could find me
    My foremost hideaway in which I could flee the hideous threats from the world of reality
    I didn’t pay attention to the consequences of my enchanted illusions
    Dread and cynicism accompanied me at every step as unwelcome and unavoidable guests
    Secrets were locked within me and only nonsense was guiding me in the eternal gloom of my seclusion
    In vain I strove to reach out to the moonlight
    Nevertheless, I had been cast away too far
    Surrounded by nothing but loneliness and bleakness
    I was left crying tears made of madness and turmoil.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Castaway’s Desires

    Castaway’s Desires

    Castaway’s desires enticed me in the long winter nights, when the frozen branches of hollow trees caressed me softly, as they needed to approach my body.

    The scent of burning candles devoured my enthusiasm and reminded me only of my hopeless misery. An everlasting burning desire strove to swallow my heart greedily like an invisible demon.

    My insensitive inertia shattered my soul into pieces and I let the devastation take advantage of me. I was born to dissolve and to perish an infinite number of times in endless ways.

    Frenzy and turmoil were my loyal guides like flaming torches in the deepest darkness, and they offered me their improper wisdom. I felt alive only because I embodied the distress that consumed me, leaving me in flames.

    Indeed, it was true that scorching passion sometimes might have let me fall in love with things that destroyed, and that was what penetrated every part of me.

    I was made of fire and glaze surrounded by the cold mist of my dark chamber where dimly lit candles were my only merriment.

    The sweet screams of the night recalled to me who I really was. Obsession carved my vein instilling a tainted poison instead of blood. I became a creature of the realm of shadows and wraiths.

    I was consumed by my own fantasies and foolish hallucinations. I had become the queen of frenzy among my lost memories of worlds which I once belonged to.

    No mortal entity could see me because I was visible only to creatures of my own. There was no transformation in my staticity.

    I could perceive the manifestation of my own tempest, like a tiny vessel in a stormy sea. Lost in the labyrinth of my dreams and dread, I was unable to discover the existence beyond time.

    The great mystery of seeking my reflection in the immense mirror of life made me realise my nothingness. There was no end and there was no beginning but merely a vague silence clinging to me like luscious ivy.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Entangled In My Own Disquiet

    Entangled In My Own Disquiet

    Entangled in my own disquiet
    I found myself in a state of confusion
    Collapsing into a vortex of chaos and despair
    I might have been able to overcome my fears
    But I was not capable of escaping the loneliness

    There were no mirrors in my secret dwelling
    Where candles and shadows were my loyal confidantes
    And an absolute silence was soothing me like a soft lullaby
    While my sighs hid tears of grief

    Thinking of myself as a tiny leaf in an immense ocean
    I was surrendered to fate, ready to be swallowed up in the abyss of oblivion
    Lost in a turmoil of obsessions and dismay

    Many times I wished to escape from the labyrinth of my fantasies
    But deceptions were always following my trail
    I knew no serenity
    Instead, I was condemned to wander endlessly

    Time didn’t know me as I existed in a surreal dimension
    I belonged to the realm of darkness and obliteration
    And I was a victim of the impetuous winds of the long winter night

    I felt the discomfort of reality
    It was like wearing a sumptuous dress made of thorns and quills
    I lived as a doll locked in an airtight box

    No creature could ever perceive me
    No creature could ever hear my sobs and sighs
    No mirror could reflect my image

    I was inevitably entangled in my own disquiet
    Although the stillness around me pacified my soul
    I didn’t feel any urgency to rescue myself
    Indeed, my drowsy heart couldn’t perceive anything anymore

    I had no longing, no desire left
    I’ve never been in the garden of devotion and love
    I’ve always been shrouded in clouds of invisibility
    Always surrounded by candles and spiderwebs
    Lost in a cloud of incense and blooming night flowers
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Phantasmagoric Fantasies

    Phantasmagoric Fantasies

    Phantasmagoric fantasies were my kingdom of infinity and eternity
    A divine refuge where I could fly freely like a fairy
    Whenever the storms of fear and dismay came upon me

    I craved love and devotion like a thirsty blossom seeking the rain
    Nevertheless, what I could find were relics of forgotten treasures and vessels of mystery
    Silence was the only sound I could hear during my lonely and endless nights

    My beating heart was full of spells and illusions, trying to fill the void with silly desires
    Although I had whispered my secrets to the luminaries glimmering in the night firmament
    I could listen to the time ticking as it slipped like heavy raindrops

    The flickering candlelight kept me warm while my heart sank in the gelid ocean of sorrow
    For I was exiled to an evanescent world
    Where everything was ephemeral and illusory

    As much as I clung to false hopes, nowhere was destined to ever become my beloved secluded niche
    For I was fated to wander evermore without any guidance or aim

    Quaffing arcane potions, I fed my soul with darkness and fire
    Perceiving my slow descent into the chasm of oblivion
    I became a fierce sorceress willing to face any kind of hazard

    Lost lyrics echoed in my mind as if they were fragments of my memories
    The suspense of my fragility made me shiver like a delicate flower under the touch of a frosty wind
    I got lost in phantasmagoric fantasies woven in my dreams

    For I was a dream myself, mesmerised by the beauty of my own imagination
    Shunning the bitter truth that my broken mirrors insisted on revealing to me

    I had always been made of illusions, even though my broken heart persisted in loving chimaeras and ghosts, sinking into the infinite abyss of nothingness.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Melancholic Discomfort

    Melancholic Discomfort

    Melancholic discomfort was a mirror to my soul. Dead leaves fell with sadness. Sorrow grasped dreams and delight. The abyss of nothingness extended its boundaries. Delusional visions became gloomy shadows. Portals of darkness were sources of uncertainty. Illusion was reality but not anymore. Distances become journeys to surreal realms. Deceitful hopes were invisible traps

    Silence hushed me as an imperious order. There was no prophecy able to entangle my fate. Everything was distorted and hypnotising. Obsessions clutched my heart with nails and quills. The horizon was shrouded in haze. Only darkness was guiding me in a labyrinth of bitterness and revenge. I saw squalor swallowing magnificence. I heard the screams of joy of demented fools. Their claws were embedded in precious paintings

    At night I woke up overwhelmed by the moans of pain and dread. It was the visitation of those who had no voice. So many times, I wished to keep my heart in oblivion. But it was never the case. They came and their poison penetrated into my heart. I kept myself faraway from each one of them. At the end, my dreams had opened my eyes and I saw everything.

    It was too late and too soon. Time had no sense anymore. Nothing made sense anymore. Everything had become a dark nightmare. There was no escape. There was no salvation. I had been punished for having seen too much. Beyond any imagination. As if nature could have welcomed me to another realm. Where I was free from other mediocrity chains.

    The mist enveloped me, as if it wanted to protect me from seeing things that would dishearten and hurt me. I had been shamelessly emulated by horrible ghouls who scrutinised me with envious and treacherous eyes. Copycats who used my lipstick-red shade strove to reproduce my portraits in a grotesque, ridiculous style.

    Mediocrity and corruption wanted me to hush, because I had revealed their appalling secrets. But the wind was my ally and it brought my words to all the domains. My heart has been shattered and devastated. I had become a shell of myself. I couldn’t recognise my countenance in the silvery surface of cynical mirrors. I had no dreams anymore because I had lost any desire to return to my fantastical journey.

    I was just a shell of myself, a ghost devoid of every hope to find the delights in a lugubrious existence. Touching the gelid walls of a house made of memories and bones, I was reminded of the several losses, demises and vaults, which were entangled in my heart. I had lost everything that was very dear to me in an indissoluble manner.

    I felt a melancholic discomfort like sharp nails piercing my heart, and an absence of noise, as if I had already vanished before parting. Long nights expired slowly, as though they didn’t want to leave space for the daylight. I was annoyed at the thought of seeing clumsy and mediocre beings wallowing in a world filled with cornucopias and treasure chests.

    I constantly felt like a creature condemned to see what I didn’t want to see. Squalor, venality, superficiality, and idiocy were served on platters of gold and gems as jewels of admiration and wisdom. I felt so disoriented and emptied of all my desires and dreams that I didn’t even know what I wished to accomplish anymore with my copious dreams in a tragic existence.

    All my anguished thoughts turned into raw, unfiltered words. The sense of deep disappointment had disarmed me and I no longer knew what to do. Countless times I had lost myself and never found that part of me that had faded into oblivion. Lacklustre, shallow, and ostentatious mortals had shamelessly disconcerted me.

    Their grimaces in front of the cameras and idiotic poses had dominated the scene along with their bottles of luxurious perfumes, their exorbitant chocolates, and their sumptuous jewels. I saw marionettes devoid of any decency, which were crowned queens of a fallen kingdom made of corrupted remnants and the dust of wickedness. 

    I sat under a dead tree in the garden of disillusions, I was already exhausted by a profusion of daring adventures, feeling that I was no longer capable of moving forward. I had given up in the face of the devastation and desecration of beauty and art. I didn’t want to be part of that assembly that reeked of disintegration and decay pit.

    But at the same time, I felt helpless because I could not save what had been cruelly torn away from me. My shattered heart stopped beating and turned into a heavy stone that made me fall into the abyss of nightmares. A fatal slumber had captured me, and I wept for the lack of dreams.

    The melancholy of the memories of what I lost overwhelmed me like a stormy sea. I felt helpless in the face of a tsunami of catastrophic events that had infested my life. I didn’t want to know anything anymore. I didn’t want to feel anything anymore. I didn’t want to love anything anymore.

    I locked myself in a refuge of perpetual silence, shunning everything that had damaged and scarred me. Every form of bliss had been relinquished since I had become a shadow in a world that didn’t belong to me any longer. I shunned the realm of degradation and profanity.

    I had embodied all the despairs and struggles that had chased me, now that I was a shadow in a realm of darkness and doom. Dressed in fragments of forgotten beauty, I wandered aimlessly as if fate had abandoned me. A gentle breeze of restlessness and sadness enveloped me, as if to remind me that I still had a heart.

    The hiss of loneliness was the only sound that constantly accompanied me. At the same time, I could not find a horizon or a destination to follow. I had regained myself by losing myself in the void, with the hope of forgetting everything that had erased me. I vanished like an evanescent cloud at twilight just before the eternal night came to announce its hegemony.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Sparkles Of Spell And Starlight

    Sparkles Of Spell And Starlight

    Sparkles of spell and starlight rained over me in my luscious garden of roses and bones. The shining stars were celebrating a feast in the voluptuous night sky.

    I fell in love with the glistening starlight and the sublime scent of my roses. I could taste the bitterness of melancholy in every drop of enchantment I was able to sip quietly in my secret refuge.

    Locked and invisible to mortal gaze, I could freely talk to mirrors and ask questions to the wind. In the dark and gloomy night sky, I could glimpse sparkling gems casting glares across the clouds.

    Nonetheless, I carried the burden of my tragedy, unaware of what love truly meant. I felt protected in my intimate garden of passion and forbidden desires, where I fantasised about lovely blossoms and sharp thorns.

    The mesmerising night was celebrated by the stars and the moon, which sighed with delight and surprise. I dreamt of extravagant flowers blooming like arcane mysteries.

    Awakened and dizzied, I relied on my derealization, and I could perceive all the things, which couldn’t be perceived by ordinary mortals. I have seen degradation and decay creep into magnificent works of art silently and subtly.

    I was made of chaos and starlight. I became the lover of my cosmic dreams, which accompanied me to bewitching forests and labyrinths of perdition. I had embraced my doom and my oblivion.

    Not far away, I could hear the ocean’s shore stuffed with broken seashells and withered rose petals. A salty breeze dazzled me by making me remember sugarcoated lies and bitter betrayals.
    
    My heart beat fast like a comet star of fire and ice. I had become the queen of the night and darkness, and I followed the rules of madness and frenzy. I enjoyed casting tainted spells on mortal souls.

    Sparkles of magic and starlight unleashed free in my bizarre fantasies during a winter midnight in my secret garden of dead trees and faded blooms. I felt the discomfort of my mystic intuition that had me see much more of what I wanted to know.

    I leaned against the stone wall of my gloomy dwelling. I had finally caught a glimpse of every single circumstance that I had imagined clearly in my previous dreams. I wished I were wrong and I wished to become silly like those lost creatures wandering in search of a phoney love.

    And therein I was, waiting for the moon to rise again in the valley of crystal pebbles and alluring pale roses. I shunned the exquisite appetites of passion that had destroyed me in my past existence.

    No mirror could ever hurt me any longer, at that very moment of awakening and awareness. I sparkled like a shining star among bones and candles. No ghouls could ever have hurt me now that I transformed into an imperturbable glimmer of starlight.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Among Heartbeats And Sighs

    Among Heartbeats And Sighs

    Among heartbeats and sighs, I passed my long summer nights, while dew from the flowers fell on my skin. Purity and passion blended, enticing me to the garden of the forbidden desires.

    The wind carried the exquisite poison of night flowers to my lips, awakening my body. I was mesmerised and enchanted with the phantom beauty of my own descent.

    I dreamed of marvellous roses sumptuously evoking delight and bliss. I grabbed and bit the fruits of frenzy and turmoil ready to satisfy my desire.

    Desire and covetousness were my startling cravings, which made my heart beat again and again like a source of power. I was dominated by my passions that monopolised all my attention.

    I fell into the trap of my mistakes and cried out all my pangs as if my teardrops could have erased all that dismay. I kept a multitude of longings in my secret treasure chest, which I sealed with tears and trepidation.

    A gloomy cloud of fear and disillusion enveloped me threateningly, deterring me from staring at the luminaries shining bright in the dark blue firmament.

    I was conquered like prey by wicked impulses, which were conducting me to the brink of uproar. I couldn’t find peace anymore in my slumber since evil nightmares were keeping me eternally awake.

    Demise would have been the portal of my liberation, and instead, I was playing with ghosts and magical roses. I didn’t want to accept the truth, I desired to pretend that everything was perfectly terrible.

    The silver moon gleamed upon me pouring its ethereal light over my garden of woe and sorrow. And among heartbeats and sighs, I remained silent and listened to the whispers of the nocturnal breeze.

    I could scent the taste of toxic magic on my red lips. I felt a burden in my chest burning like an everlasting flame. I wished fervently to be a free butterfly, flying over enchanted flowers. I wished intensely to be a free bird, soaring high amidst clouds and stars.

    A spell was cast over me, binding my heart to invisible phantoms. Desires had ensnared me in their vicious frolic, melting my heart into a lake of fire and ice. Therefore, I became a creature of that realm of shadows and darkness.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Sweet And Mournful Vexations

    Sweet And Mournful Vexations

    Sweet and mournful vexations fell all over me like a midsummer rain shower, while I was enticed frantically by my nocturnal demons with shallow folly. All alone I tried to disentangle myself from those chains of obsession.

    I could barely breathe and I wasn’t able to remember my name at all. So reserved and bashful as I was born, I couldn’t avoid wandering nowhere to find myself and the arcane secret locked by my fate.

    I had wished for myself a different destiny that would have granted me solace and delights. No peace remained in my treasure chest but only the dust of decay and a sparkle of dismay.

    A deafening silence claimed that I was insolent for my fearless dreams. I missed the calm nights at the candlelight, soothed by the sound of lullabies and ocean storms.

    I envisioned the image of spectres each time I approached the silver surface of a broken mirror. A feverish delirium forced me to succumb to the darkness of the night.

    I might have been a withered flower. I might have been a living creature. The gelid arrows of the frosty wind penetrated my heart that was burning like an everlasting flame. So frail I felt I could crumble like a crystal flower under the influence of devastation.

    Maybe the abyss of descent had swallowed me like a wild monster from the underworld. Chaos bound me like a velvet veil fallen from the gloomy sky, while shadows hushed me as if I were on the brink of disclosing their enigmas.

    Sweet and mournful vexations lulled me to my decay, engraving a mysterious elegy on every stone of my dungeon. A magnificent melancholy consoled me now that I was nothing but just the spoil of myself.

    I had created my own doom by means of my own nightmares. Was I the real and only creator of my own oblivion? That question echoed in my head forever like a haunting dream. I couldn’t even surprise myself anymore.

    So greatly lured was I, drawn into the maze of my own turmoil, where each image promised ecstasy exclusively, and instead offered me only exquisite torments. So much intertwined I was in the spiderweb of my fears that I could not liberate myself.

    Devoured by my own passions and obsessions, I entered the labyrinth of sweet and mournful vexations, which clung to my very heart like insidious ivy. Meanwhile, the imperceptible sound of the night surrounded me like a mystic mist. And therein I remained like a frozen butterfly in a garden of shimmering glaze.
    Elisabetta Esther

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