Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: metaphysical poetry

  • Wonderful Darkness

    Wonderful Darkness

    Wonderful darkness in the midst of my dreams shrouded me in its velvety dark veil, inlaid with stars and crescent moons. I was frightened to lose myself in the infinite void in front of me. Chaos enthralled me, as I was cast out of every solace, and I made acquaintance with demons and afflictions.

    I was everything, and I was nothing. I was infinite, and I was confined. No shapes or colours could define me, as I had lost my primordial impression. A festive creature had announced a decadent fate to me, leaving me withered flowers and branches made of thorns. Although hesitation grasped me, I was determined to embrace the defiant distress that confined me to a dungeon of tears and blood.

    Dreadful nightmares as sweet dreams whenever I was surrounded by a deadly slumber. Candles were burning in the night haze, when I listened to the thunder roars. My bleeding heart fainted as it donated every drop of its blood to impatient and greedy spirits. In confusion and silence, I remained still like a frozen sculpture.

    I had severed all empathy for my past self. Decline was my inevitable destiny, and I sank deeper and deeper into the abyss of despair. Skeletons of memories claimed me from their otherworldly home. Ethereal flames adorned me like a fiery crown. In my eternal dream, I was flying free like a butterfly on a spring morning.

    Nonetheless, what was expected was a storm of wrath and demise. Wonderful darkness had entangled me in an entrapment filled with daggers and screams. My heart was viciously tormented, fractured and torn to pieces. I couldn’t have found a shadow willing to grant me even a fragment of marvel.

    The sky hid the stars’ bright light beneath dark, threatening clouds, and I acquiesced to my fate. Quiescent shadows wrapped me with their mysterious soliloquies. I traversed my last portal without any hope of return. My name was obliterated, and my heart was swallowed by wonderful darkness. Through loss, blood, and oblivion, I was consecrated to the night.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • In The Frosted Rose Garden Of Madness

    In The Frosted Rose Garden Of Madness

    In the frosted rose garden of madness, a place of bliss and delight, prospered in secrecy. Thorns and petals intertwined in a lethal union, merging like sweet poison in the twilight. Snowflakes were falling over me like soft caresses sent by the luminaries. Clouds were numbing me with their alluring charm, casting bad memories away from my mind.

    Everything seemed perfect and deformed. What appeared to be real was just an illusion, and I fed my soul with delusions and glimmering lies. While the flickering of the candlelight created constantly bizarre drawings of shadows on the walls, made of bricks and bones. The wind hushed me, for me to pay attention to some revelation I was supposed to hear.

    The frosted rose garden of madness was my hidden haven of lunacy and spices. Every kind of rose would blossom in it, surrounded by thorns and arrows. The exquisite magnificence of the view contrasted with the scent of death, which was hovering over it like a wraith from the underworld. My madness was the artifice of my descent to a vortex of frenzies and obsessions.

    Storms inside my heart besieged my boldness, and I surrendered to them. Undoubtedly, I was bold enough to face my obliteration, but not enough to accept my ineptitude. Lores and legends guided me on a perilous path of oblivion. Thorns and pins pierced my heart as I embraced folly and turmoil.

    I wish I could help myself in this labyrinth of passions and longings. Nonetheless, I was lost permanently in the realm of nowhere and absurdity, where everything could have been granted in every conceivable manner, in darkness and light. The colder I felt, the more the dwelling around me dissolved in a haunting haze of derealization.

    Shadows sighed in despair, and infinity bled into nothingness. Gloomy shades invited me to hush, sealing my lips with crimson sealing wax. My freedom had been traded for eternal doom and toxic chains. I didn’t recognise my frosted rose garden of madness any longer, because it came to be a forsaken ravine.

    Indisputably, I had lost the purpose of enduring my burdensome existence. Even the trees and flowers refused to make my acquaintance. I was cast away in the kingdom of desolation and balderdash. I forfeited my voice, and my screams carved words of dismay in my heart.

    I was mesmerised by stupor and dizziness as I crossed the portal to utopias and idylls. I had entered an everlasting dream, where I was ethereal and fragile like a rose tormented by blizzards. In solitude, my collapse epitomised the shattering of my dreams, which disintegrated into ashes and frosty flakes.

    In the frosted rose garden of madness, I fell into a deadly slumber listening to the sound of a deafening silence. I could envision my fantasies as tainted desires of love and death. Caressing brambles and hibernated roses, I vanished into the marvellous dark mist of the night as if I had never existed. I became darkness and light. I became ice and fire.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • A Storm Of Tragedies

    A Storm Of Tragedies

    A storm of tragedies suddenly overwhelmed me
    Dragging me into the abyss of despair and renunciation
    A delight for my heart, which wept and was scorched into ashes
    My fate knew no expectation
    No longing was any longer granted to me
    I had been buried once again
    And I had been forsaken by my own stars
    Instead, I had been retained in shadows and dismay
    Lost in my soliloquies
    I realised that it was all a dreadful dream
    A nightmare in disguise
    And so the eternal night never knew an end
    The sky was invisible to me
    While I was relegated to my secret crypt
    In solitude and dismay, I was destined to endure my existence
    Emptiness was swallowing me from within
    As I could hear the sound of my tears collapsing incessantly on the frigid soil
    Anguish didn’t spare my heart, piercing it like a torturing dagger
    I knew not what destiny might have reserved for me
    Dread kept my heart impaled, helpless in its naivety and foolishness
    Even the moon averted its gaze from me
    Whilst a deafening silence surrounded me
    The cold wind of the eternal night could no longer hurt me
    Since I had become a creature of darkness, without longings or expectations
    My downfall had become my reprieve
    I had found delight in discomfort and grief
    My alcove was made of dust and cruel stones
    My comfort and refuge were made of chaos
    Dreaming of starlight and love was only a remote chimeara
    No longer being the privileged creature of stars and rainbows
    I belonged to the realm of gloomy skies and sharp thorns
    In my frozen loneliness and seclusion
    There I was destined to subsist in decay and death
    With no rescue or transformation
    Blood and tears were flowing down my face and body
    And I remained therein forever.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Beneath The Light Of A Candle

    Beneath The Light Of A Candle

    Beneath the light of a candle
    I hid all my sorrows
    My crying out loud was the epitome of my shadows
    Lying on the wooden soil of my dark chamber
    I could listen to the delightful sound of blood drops
    My heart had been pierced in myriad moments
    And I could see him nailed to a rusty nail
    Painting the wallpaper with crimson hues
    The scent of dragon’s blood incense enveloped me in a thick cloud
    I could allow myself to follow my foolish illusions
    They have always kept me on the verge of madness
    A relentless turmoil would have emptied me endlessly
    Dismembering my soul and tearing it to shreds
    I had fallen victim to my own tragedy
    Even though I have eluded the weight of grief
    All the most beautiful blossoms of my garden had withered
    Flowered meadows transformed into a hollow valley of tears and blood
    I had lost all my dearest treasures and a spell was cast over my insane fate
    Crimson and dark shadows were confining me in my infernal dwelling
    Haunted by dark memories and atrocious obsessions
    Where I couldn’t find a sparkle of love and hope
    I might have been allowed to see my relentless grave
    There she stood so magnificent and exquisite
    A monument to my witlessness and insanity
    Beneath the light of a candle
    I had perished anonymously
    Only glooms and clouds were grieving for me
    Under a sky made of glass and pearls
    At the dead of night
    When chimaeras and ghouls gathered
    As soon as the moon invoked them
    Hence I had become a creature of the otherworld
    A realm of perpetual twilight and wilted leaves
    Where wisdom had forever been obliterated
    And silence sealed the portal to mortal sight.
    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 swallowed my heart greedily like an invisible demon.

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

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

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

    I was made of fire and ashes 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 paranoid hallucinations. I had become the queen of madness among my lost memories of worlds to which I once belonged.

    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

  • The Collapse Of My Haunted Illusions

    The Collapse Of My Haunted Illusions

    The collapse of my haunted illusions began the night of my fall into the dark chasm of my fears, where I’ve been tortured by sharp thorns and daggers, penetrating my heart in every way, and making it bleed to the very last drop of blood.

    My soul was burning alive, and I could hear the screams of my dreams, alive and breathing, to get the last essence of my foolishness. I had tormented scars cherishing my grief and sorrow. All in the while of my transformation and decay.

    I was reborn and died oftentimes, as long as my heart was struck by the many thunders of madness and self-destruction. Everything could have obliterated me in the valley of despair and grief.

    I was bound to the chains of the deserted version of myself and obscure presages. The fate surrendered at the sight of the tower of my solitude, where I was the only captive in the presence of wraiths made of tragic illusions.

    My tragedy was an everlasting and bright gift, like a hidden treasure. I knew not what could be expected beyond the several doors that kept me locked up. I could have screamed all night long and no phantom would have heard.

    My tears were pearls anchored to my neck like sharp hooks, tearing at my skin. While obsessive fears were swallowing my soul, and as much as I might run, they hunted me wherever I wandered during my endless bleak nights.

    Loneliness was retaining me as a creature of its own realm. And the steadiness of silence besieged my delusional abode. My pierced heart dangled from the ceiling and its drops of blood traced sacred symbols on the frigid soil.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Surrounded By Darkness

    Surrounded By Darkness

    Surrounded by darkness and evil spirits
    I wandered lost among dark shapes and whispered truths
    The thorns in my heart traced the path to my destiny
    While secrets and hidden tales were hiding beyond my control

    And I could hear the clock ticking in a rhythmic way
    Almost like a symphony of time and dreams
    Moving lyrical rhymes within my mind like leaves in the wind
    As if fate had determined that I was merely its puppet, to be used at its whim.

    I danced amid the heart of utter darkness
    Amongst phantoms and malevolent ghouls
    Surrounded by darkness and dark shapes
    They whispered secret truths I should be aware of
    They intimated to me to be careful and never trust

    I used my blood to carve all my verses on each stone I met
    While the pain tore me apart like soft cotton candy
    The scent of arcane spells and incense made me feel overwhelmed
    Bewitched by my own demons evoked through ancient tarots
    I lay down on a silent throne of illusions and deception

    So, I chose to remain in silence to seal an invisible oath.
    Elisabetta

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