Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: mirror

  • The Magic Beneath Her Smile

    The Magic Beneath Her Smile

    The magic beneath her smile
    In a hush of varnished sight
    Her gaze held mine
    She was not senseless
    She was enigmatic
    A timeless masterpiece
    An eternal and sublime beauty
    As if she knew everything about me
    And all that I hadn’t yet dared to live

    Seventeen-seventeen was the arcane message
    She whispered to me in the gallery aura
    Like a cypher and a vow
    A painting is much more than a mirror
    It is the reflection of a soul into a thin surface of eternity

    The time became nineteen-nineteen
    Like wings folding back into the surface of my body
    An unlived existence was rising up from between my heart
    And it was not a fairytale or a legend
    But a secret signal and a door to another world

    Surreal fantasies became my realm
    And there I lingered silent and astonished
    Immobile like a sphinx with staring eyes
    Futile as I felt like the moments of bliss I lived in that magic kingdom of beauty and eternity
    An exquisite world where my heart beat again joyfully

    Vanity and ephemeral dreams took me to mysterious places
    Where I discovered new oddities and ancient secrets
    I wouldn’t be able to understand which spell had been cast on me
    I only knew I couldn’t resist the captivating labyrinth of arts

    The magic beneath her smile concealed arcane mysteries
    It wasn’t a prosaic artwork but a divine splendour
    Dressed in centuries of varnish
    Hid behind a shining crystal
    Surrounded by fragments of timeless magnificence.
    Lisa

  • A Heart Of Stone

    A Heart Of Stone

    A heart of stone and blood was mine in the afterlife
    In my underworld abode full of evanescent masks and weeping phantoms
    A magic tower of spells touching the sky and the metallic moons
    Surrounded by soft clouds and dead trees

    Each mask whispered terrible secrets to me
    While smiling like court jesters inside the unbreakable walls of my castle
    A castle made of bones and blood of my enemies
    Beneath the shining firmament visited by the moons with many countenances

    I was the queen of the tragic world of pity and descend
    My decadence made a throne for me, carved in sorrow
    And there I lingered, dressed in shining sparkles and moonlight
    My gown was forged with threads of sighs and desires

    My gown was the manifestation of sighs and desires
    Eerie candles with their trembling flames cast light upon my visions
    Longings coiled like serpents made of smoke
    The walls wept decayed memories and each mirror was a doorway to arcane mysteries

    My absolute silence was a hymn to all I had lost
    The moons grieved the weight of my dismay
    An eternal ghost similar to myself waited for me beyond my crystal windows
    Ruins and beauty crowned me their sovereign

    My destiny was engraved in shadow and starlight
    I wandered in the labyrinth of forsaken fortunes
    I felt that the ancient soil trembled beneath my steps
    My heart was still carved from stone, seeking solace in vain

    I couldn’t break free from the chains of my own sorrow
    Although I reached for my reflection in the mirror
    And I knew that this was the fate I had chosen
    I knew I belonged to the occult underworld as an ethereal creature of darkness.
    Elisabetta

  • The Mirror Spell

    The Mirror Spell

    The mirror spell was cast in a time long past,
    When the shadows were more sombre,
    And no light was reflected by that polished glass with worn edges,
    In a realm where dreams and desires were both shattered and torn.

    The mirror held a mystic snare,
    Since an ancient curse was embedded underneath;
    Its countenance became frozen as the night descended,
    Concealing tales of malcontent and sorrow.

    None could ever have touched it,
    A frail and lost vestige of the past.
    No one knew the foolish tale of this magic mirror,
    A mirror that, for every glance, granted but a glimpse of dread,
    Revealing only truths that none could bear.

    Withered hopes and desolate hearts laid bare in that realm of death,
    Each crack was a line of sorrow’s trace,
    Revealing each distorted dream in a haunting silence.
    Each night, it summoned a hollow tone,
    Luring the lost to claim its own;

    In haunted halls, where echoes roamed like wild animals,
    The mirror enticed the lost dreamers,
    Making them drunk on dreams, their fleeting light,
    Swallowed by chasms as dark as night;
    Its silent curse, a binding thread,
    To weave the hearts of the forgotten dead.

    In this fatal frolic of dreams and oblivion,
    Those who dared to peer inside,
    Were drawn to an abyss none could disguise;
    Till flesh and spirit, thin and worn,
    Became as pale as twilight morn.

    The mirror lingered in that desolate dwelling,
    A relic untouched by time,
    Luring those who sought reasons that would forever elude them.
    Veiled in glooms, it became a gateway,
    Pulling ghosts into a realm where whispers of despair merged with the lingering scent of dust and decay.

    Each sigh, a lullaby for the forlorn, coaxed the foolish and fearless alike until consumed by the darkness.
    They hovered beyond the reach of dawn,
    Into the infinite void.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Broken Mirror

    The Broken Mirror

    The Broken Mirror
    by Esther Elizabeth Racah

    The broken mirror reflected a fractured world,
    Facades twisted in the distant light,
    The truth was lost as reflections swirled,
    Clarity faded into the night.

    Each crack told tales of dreams once whole,
    Fragments were part of a distorted show,
    Sighs echoed from the secret dwellings of fractured souls,
    In the broken mirror’s shadowed glow.

    Silvered edges framed distorted scenes,
    A face with sights that could not be seen,
    Reflections trapped in shattered visions,
    Lost within chaotic reverie.

    The silvery glass spoke in muted, splintered tones,
    Revealing truths twisted and blurred,
    A thousand shards held silent moans,
    Where broken images remained unheard.

    Each piece held a sliver of the past,
    A memory splintered and unclear,
    In the mirror’s grasp, shadows cast,
    Untangling what was once held dear.

    Fractured light created a maze,
    A labyrinth of tales left untold,
    In this mirror’s cryptic haze,
    The past’s reflection turned cold.

    A portrait shattered by unseen hands,
    Happiness’s tales lost in grief’s embrace,
    Mirrored fragments dispersed across lands,
    Of broken hopes and shattered dreams.

    The broken mirror remained a cryptic guide,
    A map of what was lost and found,
    In its shards, the truth tried to hide,
    Within a maze where secrets were concealed.

    Every shard held a story half-told,
    A glimpse into lives that had been,
    In the mirror’s shattered, fractured folds,
    Dwelled memories of what was once seen.

    The surface, once clear, now lay in pieces,
    A burst image of days gone by,
    The obliterated mirror retained its silent secrets,
    In fragments where shadows still lie.

    As the pieces lay scattered and cold,
    The reflections faded out of view,
    In the broken mirror’s cryptic hold,
    The past’s echoes bid farewell.

  • The Mirror of Despair

    The Mirror of Despair

    The mirror of despair stood like a monolith,
    A monolith, unmoved, defiant.
    Before that cursed glass, shadows loomed,
    And light would pass, leaving darkness consumed.

    Once it held the grace of life,
    Now, only hollow faces survived.
    The air grew poisonous, a burden to bear,
    A chill that whispered, don’t you dare.

    Cold breath hung in the air, a fleeting mist,
    A ghostly trace that once existed.
    The surface touched, cold as stone,
    Yet deeper still, a soul felt alone.

    The mirror of despair exhaled a sorrow so vast,
    Trapping a soul within the past.
    A scream clawed up, lodged in the throat,
    But all that came was silence’ coat.

    A voice was lost, like fading light,
    Consumed by dread, engulfed by night.
    The reflection showed not just a face,
    But every fear that none would trace.

    Youth decayed, bones turned brittle,
    Skin faded grey, and life became little.
    Colours drained from joy and life,
    Each moment was replaced by endless strife.

    The mirror of despair pulled deeper still,
    Into a world that froze all will.
    A heart, once whole, now torn apart,
    Reflected back in shards of dark.

    Each fragment whispered death’s embrace,
    No warmth, no light, no saving grace.
    Graves appeared, their earth undone,
    And in those pits lay the one.

    A figure frail, devoid of breath,
    Caught in the arms of endless death.
    Turning away was not allowed,
    Something held firm, no escape endowed.

    The pull of doom, a heavy chain,
    Bound this soul to eternal pain.
    The mirror’s depths revealed no end,
    Only endless dread, no hope to mend.

    Shadows closed in, all around,
    A suffocating, endless bond.
    The weight of death felt so near,
    Its breath was so cold, its touch so clear.

    It whispered low, in the ear so slow,
    That all was lost; no light could show.
    Cracks spread wide across the glass,
    Like spiders’ webs that grew en masse.

    Each line it split tore at the soul,
    A mirror now of death’s control.
    And there stood a figure, consumed by dread,
    A living soul among the dead.

    The mirror of despair held a final sigh,
    A grim reflection left to die.
    The hours blurred, the days bled dry,
    Lingering there, without knowing why.

    No future lay beyond the glass,
    Just shadows of a life that passed.
    Each breath became a hollow sound,
    A heart that barely dared to pound.

    Lingering there, devoid of air,
    In endless, hopeless, cold despair.
    No warmth could reach this haunted place,
    No hope could heal what’s been erased.

    A ghost within the glass remained,
    And death, it seemed, forever chained.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Mirror Of Astral Woe

    The Mirror Of Astral Woe

    In the mirror of astral woe,
    Reflections of the soul did show.
    Not faces, but the shadows of thoughts,
    Woven into a cosmic knot.

    Each glance revealed a spectral tale,
    Of existence where truths turned frail.
    The mirror’s surface, a gateway to fears,
    Where the self was lost in forgotten years.

    Through its glass, the void stared,
    Revealing the soul’s deepest despair.
    Each reflection was a whisper of the infinite,
    A gaze into the abyss, where darkness split.

    The mirror reflected not what was seen,
    But the essence of what might have been.
    In its depths, the astral realm’s sorrow grew,
    A mirror to the soul’s darkest view.

    In the shadowy realms it held,
    Unspoken dreams and fears rebelled.
    Each fleeting vision, a ghostly parade,
    Of regrets and desires that never faded.

    Through the silken haze of the mirror’s sheen,
    Spectres of what was, what might have been,
    Danced in the void, where shadows spun,
    A spectral waltz, where past and future ran.

    The mirror’s surface shimmered with cosmic light,
    Reflecting the pain of eternal nights.
    In its glass, the truth lay bare,
    A portrait of despair woven with care.

    Lost souls wandered in its depths,
    Seeking solace in forgotten dreams.
    The mirror of astral woe, an oracle of desires unfulfilled,
    Showed the fractured longings, forever stilled.

    Each glance through its surface revealed,
    A truth too hostile to be concealed.
    The mirror, a portal to endless regret,
    Held the sighs of desires unmet.

    In its heart, the astral woe persisted,
    A reflection of the soul’s dreams, twisted.
    Each vision was a lamentation’s cry,
    A whisper of the self, destined to die.

    The mirror’s glance, both cold and cynical,
    Showed reflections both dark and whimsical.
    In its depths, where illusions lay,
    Reflected the tears that never dried.

    The mirror of astral woe, an endless scroll,
    Revealed the fragments of fractured dreams.
    In its depths, where every glimmer faded,
    The mirror revealed secrets never laid.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Shattered Mirror

    The Shattered Mirror

    The shattered mirror reflected in a room where shadows blended,
    A mirror that was laid with cracks that had torn,
    Its fractured glass reflected the gloom,
    The sorrows of an empty and desolate room.

    Each shard had been a fragment of despair,
    A thousand eyes that had never stared,
    Their stories had been lost in time’s cruel twist,
    A reflection of what had been missed.

    The gelid air pressed, tight and thin,
    As if the night itself might spin,
    The glass trembled, cracked, and shrieked,
    A haunting of forgotten lies.

    Mystery had been seen within the shards so frail,
    Where ghosts of dreams had not sailed,
    A broken past, a fractured sight,
    In a mirror that showed secrets that had been true.

    The shattered mirror shimmered with a ghostly light,
    Reflecting sinister shadows in the night,
    Each fragment held a glimpse of disdain,
    A shattered tale that would not remain.

    The room was filled with spectral sighs,
    As the mirror’s shards revealed betrayal,
    The dreams that had shattered long ago,
    In that room where sorrow had grown.

    The darkness wrapped around the glass,
    A ghostly shroud as moments had passed,
    In the mirror’s fractured face,
    Lay a haunted, desolate space.

    The room grew colder, steeped in the past,
    Where whispers of anguish were cast,
    Each piece of glass held a mournful tune,
    A requiem for a forsaken moon.

    Through the fractures, shadows wept,
    Silent sorrows forever kept,
    The reflection of what once was clear,
    Now lost in a realm of devilish fear.

    Time’s passage had left a mark so deep,
    Where phantoms of memories had silently crept,
    The mirror’s shards, each one steeped in regret,
    Had borne witness to the dreams unmet.

    In the stillness, where echoes had wailed,
    A tale of sorrow, a ghostly veil,
    And as the night had taken its final breath,
    The mirror’s silence had spoken of death.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • In The Stillness Of The Night

    In The Stillness Of The Night

    In the stillness of the night,
    Murmurs stir in spectral light.
    Moonlight weaves through shadowed trees,
    Casting phantoms in the breeze.

    A faint sound, barely heard,
    Echo is like a ghostly word.
    Fog creeps low upon the ground,
    Silent secrets, none profound.

    Graves stand guard in solemn rows,
    Beneath them, tales of sorrow flow.
    Marble cold and weathered grey,
    Hides the regrets of yesterday.

    Raven’s caw, a haunting cry,
    Pierces through the midnight sky.
    Wings as dark as most bottomless voids,
    On cursed winds, the air devoid.

    In the forest, shadows play,
    Dancing where the moonbeams stray.
    Eyes that gleam with hidden spite,
    Glimmer in the pitch of the night.

    An old house, a forgotten place,
    Windows stares with a hollow face.
    Doors that creak in mournful sighs,
    Shelter memories that won’t die.

    Candles flicker in the gloom,
    Fighting darkness that they loom.
    Ancient clocks tick slowly and fast,
    Counting down to moments past.

    The mirror’s surface, cold and clear,
    Reflects not the living here.
    Figures move when none are near,
    Silent screams you cannot hear.

    Steps that lead to nowhere known,
    Winding paths of moss and stone.
    Ghostly forms that roam and rove,
    Searching for what they once called home.

    In the distance, bells toll low,
    Marking time where none can go.
    Each chime a whisper, soft and thin,
    Inviting all the shadows in.

    And as the night claims all in sight,
    Darkness reigns with quiet might.
    In this realm where fear holds sway,
    Eternity and night will stay.

    So heed the warnings, keep them near,
    For the night holds more than fear.
    In the depths where shadows blend,
    Lies are a place where dreams descend.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Calmness Of Despair

    The Calmness Of Despair

    The calmness of despair filled the firmament
    Having despised vanity as a tempest broke
    The rain was blowing through the windy clouds
    I was not always used to loving dreams
    Once known as happiness lapses
    I went nowhere for one day
    Getting lost in my dreams
    Oftentimes falling into a snare of deceit
    Empty memories full of tears
    An irreverent game of illusions mangled to pieces trust
    Sadness stood at the doorway of the street
    Among the lies of people staring at it

    The calmness of despair was an intense sorrow between life and death
    The fear of terror and pain was caught in a mirror
    When the darkness obscured the emptiness
    A silent ecstasy appeared in my dreams
    A light gleam blew upon me like a hectic wind
    The storm seemed like a gentle breeze that fades
    Grief and pain desired to endure the cold deathless strife
    The fury and the howling of the sky dismantled every speck of serenity
    Indelebile and invisible amnesia of future mistakes
    A silent mystery of undisclosed obsessions hovered
    The dizziness of uncontrollable desires fell like frozen raindrops
    An obscure fate attempted to escape from fear

    In the calmness of despair’s gloom
    No thought would have been flung loose
    As every idealisation became a crystal inside my heart
    And it was impossible to hope and catch a glimpse behind the lids of unconsciousness
    None of my perceptions could lead me to deliverance
    Being constrained by misunderstanding and obstacles
    I had become a mere shadow of my imagination
    A creature of darkness and invisibility without mirrors
    An infinite dreamscape was soon forgotten in the opalescent darkness
    Every time the night shadows fell down in the desert sky
    Lost in my dreams to be never found
    Whispers and illusions met in a terrible embrace

    The calmness of despair in the abyss
    New emotions and thoughts had died too fast
    As long as time was past
    No oracle was allowed to guess
    I looked at the future all alone
    Before having discovered a labyrinth where I lost myself
    And where the pain had healed my wounds
    Completely awoken and sunken into a desire for absence
    The stillness of anguishes is a melody concealed in the ocean
    My dreams were composed of delights and pangs
    And everything was captivated by beauty and insanity
    Whenever a silent cry faded far away beyond all earthly things.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Mystery Of My Soul Reflection

    The Mystery Of My Soul Reflection

    The mystery of my soul reflection
    My senses cannot see the world
    But a single emotion so intense
    It may not be depicted in the real world
    If I am ever a spark of a wonderful dream
    Where nature does not appear
    To reveal the infinite essences
    A nocturnal creature going through many roads
    A soul in the visible world
    As life has to evolve and transform

    The mystery of my soul reflection
    I seize a dream of eternity
    Until the ocean sounds of passion
    In the intense bliss of beauty
    Deep sorrow is burning like a dark flame
    Seeing my image reflected in a broken mirror
    A shattered heart never dies
    It hangs in between opposite worlds
    I feel the blaze I cannot see
    Whilst reading empty pages

    The mystery of my soul reflection
    I live while I’m trapped in an image
    When thinking is something profound and beautiful
    I seek the stunning chasm
    Somewhere behind a hidden place
    Which sometimes is not so extravagant
    And can be found totally meaningless
    Like the first silver stars shining everywhere
    And the autumn clouds above the blue dew
    It’s a magnificent and delicate sight

    The mystery of my soul reflection
    Fragile is my mind’s mask
    My deep leisure has become my secret
    In the shadow, the emptiness shines like a star
    Through his open glass, a mirror afflicts my heart
    My soul is still burning from a sunken devotion
    My life’s reflection shining from inside
    I am not alive without any word
    No wonder I’m lonely now in the space
    So desolate, sad and puzzling today

    The mystery of my soul reflection
    I wish I could be in dreams
    I am in silence, and this is my time
    And I am walking in the darkness
    Striving and suffering
    Looking at a landscape made of indifference and deception
    Hope falls like fire in the night
    Far across the horizon
    I need an infinite glow from above to remind me how perfect I am
    But I am still waiting to see the dark sky whose light is too high.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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