Tag: moonlit poetry

  • A Dreamy Nighttime

    A Dreamy Nighttime

    A dreamy nighttime resurfaced in my mind as if I were living in that very moment that didn’t last as long as I wished it would. As usual, my flowing dark gown was agitated by the freezing wind while a large white wolf sat next to a black raven perched on the stone pillar with me. From my high stone balcony, I could gaze at a dragon flying in the distant sky, with an embellished archway overlooking a marvellous landscape of a misty valley, dramatic waterfalls, and a sprawling castle complex connected by stone bridges. That was definitely a dreamy nighttime to remember by the light of a warm candlelight, a glowing lantern, and the unperturbed silver light of the moon. My lovely companions could sense all the bitter grief and electrifying fears hidden in my heart no matter how much I claimed that nothing could disturb me. I often asked them about the meaning of existence and the reason why dreams were dissolved by the cynicism and indifference of humankind. Lost in the labyrinth of my thoughts, I let myself be captivated by the enchantment of that realm of beauty and magic, in the hope that I would distract my heart from the anguish that held it entangled in its thorny tendrils. In truth, I was fleeing from myself and from the darkness of the abyss of nightmares that haunted my fitful slumber. Nonetheless, a dreamy nighttime had the power to transform me into a creature of the silent night, inducing me to live a life of starlight and mysticism. In loneliness, I was no longer, absolutely I felt the protection of the fantastic inhabitants of that kingdom of dreamy nighttime. So bright were the luminaries that I felt finally welcomed and included for the very first time in my peculiar reality filled with oddities and delusions. At last, I was allowed to be made of dreams and nightmares, far away from the conventional impediments of humanity. Far away I fled astray, into the endless darkness, where splendid dreams and lugubrious nightmares merged beneath the silver gaze of the moon.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • The Spell In The Mirror

    The Spell In The Mirror

    The spell in the mirror made me step further back into the dark corners of my dilapidated dwelling, where echoes of my heart’s emptiness reverberated. No matter how much I tried to flee my bitter memories, I could find no refuge in that dwelling that should have protected me; instead, I fled into the unknown of the ancient oak forest—a dark place, yet more reassuring than other places that were too bitter for my heart. The night never left my side as I kept wandering aimlessly without a particular intention or destination. I felt the gelid blizzard surrounding me without hesitation, forcing me to find my haven inside a mysterious cave, where a lantern illuminated my surroundings. Extravagant visions kept me from falling into a deep sleep, like bewitching chimaeras. I could not avoid passing through a magical portal unknown to me and crossing the threshold into a wondrous world that filled me with awe and stupor. It was as if a burning desire overwhelmed my senses and heart, and all my wishes had transformed into magnificent flowers, whose exquisite perfume extended throughout that enchanted realm. The sun appeared in the middle of the night as to greet the stars hiding behind gloomy clouds, and the twilight was altered by the constant sunshine, making the realm glimmer like a treasure chest filled with splendid gems. The spell in the mirror had invited me to a world, which belonged only to me and was invisible to humankind. I was surprised by the peculiar beauty of that realm, hidden behind that magic mirror adorned with enchantments. I suddenly perceived that the surroundings were made of luxury furniture, and I gave a curious glance at a dark ornate desk holding a glass perfume bottle, beautiful roses, the ornate mirror and an armillary sphere, which resembled a model of celestial spheres. A black cat was resting on a stack of books by the window, and gazing out at the skyline, it whispered to me some arcane poetry. Meanwhile, I was admiring a large arched window looking out over a gothic city with spires and towers beneath the gaze of a theatrical sunset and a glowing moon. Certainly, I could not resist looking at some antique books where I did find the story of my life together with all the descriptions of my dreams and my trepidations; just like my predefined fate wanted to let me know that there was no possibility of changing the events that would have happened in the future. My very name was engraved on the richly adorned cover of every volume, which resembled a bewitched grimoire. The feline companion approached me as if I were a dear friend from a past life. An absolute silence descended all over the gloomy gothic chamber and I felt more than ever that I had become just one of the several evanescent chimaeras visiting my own dreams. The spell in the mirror was but a chaotic enigma in the infinite abyss of darkness and dreams.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • The Magic Foggy Night

    The Magic Foggy Night

    The magic foggy night became my night of dreams and fantastical visions. A bright, cloudy full moon stirred delightful emotions in my heart, cherishing a marvellous melancholy and sordid dismay. My attention was astonished by the sight of a stack of weathered antique books illuminated by a flamboyant candle beside a shining brass armillary sphere. The magic foggy night didn’t reveal its secrets, so I tried to talk to an esoteric book with celestial motifs, asking questions about that mysterious wisdom I was not supposed to know. As I proceeded in my questionable quest, I caught sight of a glowing glass lantern, while a solitary black raven perched on the weathered stone balcony railing amid climbing ivy. In solitude, I was resolute enough to disclose every aspect of my bizarre fate, which never failed to surprise me. As long as the magic foggy night made my imagination more unpredictable and hectic, it caused me to lose my ability to be comforted by my slumbering rest. Many doubts crossed my mind uncomfortably as I gasped uneasily whenever I realised that all I was glimpsing was a pristine daydream. It seemed that beauty was an ephemeral manifestation of my evanescent dreams. For too long I let my expectations fall into the abyss of decay, and in vain I waited for an impetuous storm to invite me into another realm. Nevertheless, the blemishes in my heart became engraved truths, which were too harsh to endure as I became more aware of the desolation of my existence. The magic foggy night had made me acquainted with nocturnal creatures and forbidden knowledge at the sight of splendour and magnificence. Alas, so abruptly time had passed, and oblivion claimed all those treasures, which hitherto had been my cherished belongings. Therefore, my flamboyant candle with the shining brass armillary sphere and weathered antique occult books together with the glowing glass lantern faded away into the void of the gloomy night. The solitary black raven flew high up into the sky until it lay beside the glistering stars. All that remained to be seen was the withered ivy and some relics of my whispers of despair. The magic foggy night had been just an illusion; a dream that didn’t accompany me for as long as I wished. The night’s deception was but an evanescence, vanishing into the darkness and leaving behind nothing but the bitter remembrance of a resplendence that had never truly been mine.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • The Sun Of Dismay

    The Sun Of Dismay

    The Sun of dismay irradiated its glowing rays of light all over me, as if I were not aware enough of my cruel fate. I wish I could have escaped from that hostile destiny, but I was bound to it by an eternal oath.

    My sighs and tears could not arrest that tragic scenario poised to, all of a sudden, dismiss the totality of my most cherished dreams. Not even the nighttime legends and fairy tales could divert my attention.

    The nocturnal echoes of the barn owls and nightjars interrupted my silent contemplation, every time I stared at the moon from my balcony adorned with ancient finds and magical manuscripts.

    Beyond the horizon, I was not able to catch sight of anything else but my dreadful fears that filled my heart with a bitter anguish. And suddenly a freezing wind rose, freezing all the mirrors of my antique mansion.

    The Sun of dismay didn’t appear anymore since the day I had decided to fall in love with my regrets and solitude. Nevertheless, far away, cast away from my memories, an obsolete shadow kept haunting the peaceful realm of my thoughts.

    No candle dared to illuminate the darkness that dwelled in my realm of nightmares and oddities. My reflection in broken mirrors made me perceive that I was an evanescent hologram of my own imagination.

    Was all that real or just a dream? A rocambolesque confusion suddenly struck me like a purely casual event. Surreal was everything I ever dreamed of and mostly the suspense of my bizarre fate.

    My invisibility was my strength and the loneliness swarming around me tempted me to surrender to every hesitation of mine, even when the Sun of dismay persisted in materialising like an unexpected ghost.

    All my wishes vanished and they were replaced by restlessness in the shape of ghouls wandering in the endless labyrinth of my chance, where destiny and randomness became indistinguishable.
    Elisabetta Esther

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