Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: mystery

  • Life Ran Away

    Life Ran Away

    Life ran away like the impetuous stream of a river,
    Beside the dark shadows of the meadows and trees,
    Where the forests grew into a lush of dark green,
    And night descended with secrets unseen.

    The mist curled close in a spectral shroud,
    Wrapping the world in a ghostly crowd.
    The whispers came, soft as a breeze,
    Sighing through leaves, bending the trees.

    In that deep silence, I stood alone,
    Where light seemed lost, and stars were stoned.
    An owl cried out a mournful plea,
    As if it knew the darkness in me.

    I wandered on, where the forest thinned,
    And felt the breath of a rising wind.
    It carried scents of earth and decay,
    A reminder of life that slips away.

    The path grew faint, the night grew bold,
    Its grip around me, icy cold.
    But then a light began to gleam,
    A flicker caught in the edge of a dream.

    It glowed upon a distant hill,
    Where the air grew thick, and death stood still.
    I climbed towards it, heart in thrall,
    But shadows reached and seemed to call.

    Their voices merged, a twisted song,
    Of those who wandered far too long.
    I felt them close, felt their despair,
    And saw their faces in the air.

    Still, the light drew me near,
    Though every step awakened fear.
    At last, I reached the spectral flame,
    But found no solace, found no name.

    For there upon the haunted ground,
    A single grave I found.
    Its stone was cold, its epitaph bare,
    And in its silence, I saw myself there.

    And there I stood, my breath caught tight,
    As moonlight spilt, so thin, so white.
    A distant echo called my name,
    Like ashes drifting from a flame.
    I traced the letters carved in stone,
    And felt a chill that reached my bone,
    Life ran away: a perpetual epitaph.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Night Fantasy

    Night Fantasy

    A night fantasy discloses secrets and enigmas,
    In the darkness of the night,
    When dreams come true.
    Whenever the night falls,
    Longings appear as imperishable lights,
    Faraway from the world of squalid reality.

    Dead leaves fall on the soil made of lush,
    Wonders and splendour attend the display of a starry night.
    A night fantasy is like a monument to beauty and sublime,
    In which time and space no longer rule.

    In this fantastic realm, the roots of cruelty and egotism don’t feed any garden,
    Whose flowers and trees breathe freely the pure essence of love and amusement,
    And only the whispers of eternity remain.

    In this tranquil abode where shadows weave,
    An aura of myths that time can not reclaim,
    The moon’s pale glow caresses the earth,
    And dreams run away like ethereal birds,
    In a sky that knows no boundaries or despair.

    Within this haven, sorrow finds no place,
    Nor does the agony of unfulfilled desires,
    Since each moment is a crystal of delight,
    Caught in the silver web of night’s embrace.
    The gentle winds sing ancient lullabies,
    Stirring the clouds with soft and mystic grace.

    The night’s enchantment knows no end,
    As beauty’s spirit wanders through the dark,
    Disclosing the world’s secrets, sacred heart.
    Each star is a lantern of forgotten lore, Illuminating paths unseen by day’s harsh gaze.

    Beneath this spell, reality itself fades away,
    And only the truth of the night’s fantasy remains,
    Where every heartbeat resounds vanishes in the night’s silent harmony,
    And the dreams wander through obscure realms,
    Embracing the enchantment that forever belongs.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Abyss of Silence

    The Abyss of Silence

    In the abyss of silence, where shadows rule,
    I wandered through the darkness, consumed by the night.
    No comfort to tether me, no compass to be found,
    Just the pulse of my dismay, a mournful sound.

    Secrets and spells, long buried and lost,
    Became reminders of dreams that were tossed.
    In the abysm of the stillness, my thoughts came to life as visions,
    As clouds on edges where memories strive.

    The walls closed in tighter, a prison of stone,
    As I wandered the hallways where night turned to day.
    In the abyss, a spark was unearthed,
    A glimmer of longings in the obscure and endless darkness.

    I searched for messages, for letters of the past,
    Each thorn was a reminder that no delight can last.
    The stillness enveloped me, solemn and profound,
    A consolation in knowing I could finally weep.

    The stars blinked above, everlasting and inextinguishable flames of glare,
    Mocking the darkness that swallowed the night.
    I embraced the abyss that I knew as ruthless,
    Since in silence, I found a connection so boundless.

    The solitude wrapped me in veils of time,
    Where sorrow and stillness began to rhyme.
    Each moment a treasure, each breath a release,
    In the abyss of silence, I stumbled on serenity.

    So I lingered in darkness, a spectre unseen,
    Where the vestige of silence weaved shadows serene,
    Whispers of sorrow in the cold, hollow air,
    A chilling embrace of despair everywhere.

    In the gloom of the night, where clouds and shadows entwine,
    I discovered the beauty in the stillness, divine.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Rain of Darkness

    Rain of Darkness

    Rain of darkness fell that night, black and thick as tar. It coated the windows, sliding down in slow, oily rivulets, obscuring the world beyond. The streets outside were nothing but shadows, swallowed by the heavy downpour that drowned out all other sounds. The wind howled like a beast in the distance, but its cries were muted, overwhelmed by the suffocating storm.

    Rain of darkness soaked the earth, turning it into a quagmire of mud and decay. Trees bent and creaked under their weight, their branches snapping like brittle bones. The sky above was an endless void, with no stars and no moon to guide the way. Only the relentless black rain, falling in heavy sheets, smothered all in its path. The scent of enigma and decay was melting in the damp evening air, weaving through the tangled shadows of an ancient forest like something dead and forgotten for a long time.

    Rain of darkness filled every inch of solid ground, choking trees and meadows with its oppressive presence as it ran through the forest. Each instant sank into the soggy ground, pulling dreams deeper into the mire. It suffocated the light, leaving only the faintest glimmer of hope trapped beneath the weight of despair. The path ahead was obscured, swallowed by the inky blackness of the storm. Nothing could be heard behind; the rain muffled every mortal trace, and it was still there, still relentless.

    A rain of darkness haunted the woods like a furious ghoul as the night stretched on. There was no shelter there, no safety in the depths of the woods. The storm would never cease, and it became perpetually a predator that would never stop. The rain would fall forever, drowning out the world until there was nothing left but shadows and darkness. And then, even the shadows would fade in the emptiness.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Darkness and Dreams

    Darkness and Dreams

    Darkness and dreams had held the night in thrall,
    A realm where shadows whispered, devouring all.
    Through endless voids, where fear took root,
    The path was lost beneath each haunting foot.

    The moon’s dim light, swallowed by dreams,
    Faltered under darkness’s ruthless schemes.
    Dreams, like phantoms, twisted through the air,
    Filling cursed streets with cold despair.

    Beneath a sky where nightmares reigned,
    The ink-stained sea had swallowed all in vain.
    Dreams surged like tides in an eerie dance,
    Drawing all into a deep, shadowed trance.

    A tower had loomed, wrapped in endless night,
    Where dreams turned dark and extinguished all light.
    Hope had become a fleeting gleam,
    Swallowed whole by a dream’s dark scream.

    Stars, once bright, had been shrouded in gloom,
    Flickering like dreams caught in an endless doom.
    In the darkness, the voids had whispered low,
    Of secrets, the dreamworld wished to show.

    Shadows had gathered, thick as fears,
    Spinning dreams, entwining years.
    Darkness, a shroud that wouldn’t lift,
    Had carried dreams in an endless drift.

    Dreams of escape had faltered and bent,
    Crushed beneath darkness’s cruel descent.
    A realm of sleep where none could flee,
    As dreams became a cold reality.

    The iron gate had gleamed, a portal to dread,
    Guarded by dreams of the nameless dead.
    In the depths, darkness had claimed its throne,
    Where dreams of light were overthrown.

    Freedom had vanished, consumed by night,
    As dreams, unrelenting, had held their might.
    No dawn, no hope, no distant gleam,
    Only the endless dark and dream.

    Darkness and dreams, forever entwined,
    Had woven a prison around the mind.
    A soul, once free, had been lost to the dimness,
    Bound to dreams, never coming back.

    Thus, in shadows where nightmares slept,
    Darkness and dreams in silence crept.
    In endless night, the fate had been sealed,
    Where darkness and dreams were forever revealed.

    In shadows deep, where nightmares gleamed,
    Darkness and dreams had reigned supreme.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Distant Light

    The Distant Light

    The Distant Light
    by Esther Elizabeth Racah

    The distant light danced on the edge of sight,
    Just beyond reach, just out of grasp.
    Steps grew weary in the endless night,
    Hope a fragile, fleeting clasp.

    It wavered like a ghostly flame,
    Teasing those who sought its glow,
    Led them through a darkened frame—
    A journey where shadows flowed.

    The distant light flickered in a fractured motion,
    A beacon in the void of night,
    Its promise, a fleeting trance,
    Drew seekers with its might.

    Each step became an endless strain,
    As the light stayed a phantom’s tease,
    Shadows stretched across the plain,
    Sapped strength, stole ease.

    It cast its lure, a wavering beam,
    Guided through a twisted maze—
    A dream of light, a distant gleam,
    Faded with the morning rays.

    In the end, the distant light stayed afar,
    A glimmer in the vast expanse—
    Shifted like a shooting star,
    Left shadows in its dance.

    The distant light remained a guide,
    A symbol of hopes untold,
    Led those who sought with pride
    To where stories unfolded.

    Yet every seeker, with weary steps,
    Found only relics of the light—
    A fleeting longing in the endless sweep
    Of darkness that devoured the night.

    They chased that light through valleys deep,
    Through mountains steep and vast oceans,
    But each pursuit was met with slumber,
    Where ghouls mocked the seekers’ stride.

    Some turned back, their strength undone,
    By the weight of dreams unrealised.
    Others pressed on toward the sun,
    Their hearts filled with fire, yet their eyes were disguised.

    The distant light, a siren’s call,
    Drew them close, then farther still.
    Through winding paths and towering walls,
    It beckoned with an iron will.

    It whispered promises in the cold blizzard,
    Of realms untouched by grief and woe—
    Of restful nights and peaceful seas,
    Where weary spirits might one day go.

    But every promise led to nought,
    As the light played tricks on eager minds.
    What once was found was soon forgotten,
    In a labyrinth of endless signs.

    The distant light became a hymn,
    Descanted by the wind, carried by dreams,
    An encomium of hope that lingered long,
    In the hearts of those lost in its gleam.

    Still, they chased, though hope grew thin,
    Through dense forests and deserts,
    Believed in the light within—
    A dream that never seemed to die.

    But in the end, the light vanished in the darkness,
    A ghostly wisp, a fleeting flame,
    A memory that could not be tamed,
    A distant star without a name.

    The distant light would never become
    A guide for those who dared to dream—
    Just a memory of a fainted beacon in eternity,
    That flickered in the unseen stream of imagination.

  • The Silent Room

    The Silent Room

    The Silent Room
    by Esther Elizabeth Racah

    In the silent room where time had lost its way,
    Faint sighs stirred the dusty air.
    Furniture draped in a forgotten grey,
    While shadows lingered, fading in despair.

    The clock’s hands rested in a frozen trance,
    Its pendulum still, mid-arc and paused.
    Sunlight filtered through a dim expanse,
    Casting shapes where silence caused.

    Curtains hung in tattered, faded folds,
    Once vibrant hues were now dulled and cold.
    A chair with threads of age-old gold—
    Vacant, though its tales were bold.

    Walls absorbed the stories of the past,
    Depicting moments long passed by.
    Unspoken secrets held fast
    In the hush where memories lie.

    The dust had settled on forgotten tomes,
    Books whose pages faded to air—
    Their tales were lost in abandoned homes,
    Their words dissolved in silent despair.

    The aura grew heavy with lingering weight,
    Of cries and songs that faded away.
    The silent room remained in the still estate,
    A portrait of ghosts held in sway.

    Cobwebs laced the corners with care,
    Delicate threads in dim light clung.
    Suspended in languid air,
    A monument to decay’s tongue.

    The phantom chimes of a dead clock
    Marked time in a place untouched by change.
    Shadows stretched in twisting mock,
    In this stillness, life seemed estranged.

    The room held its breath in a heavy pause,
    A space where past silence was sung.
    Echoes of old, forgotten applause
    Hung in the air where emptiness clung.

    Every corner harboured a secret past,
    Whispers of voices long since gone.
    The silence stretched, vast and vast,
    In this room where, time was withdrawn.

    The walls echoed with a distant sigh,
    Forgotten reveries of days gone by.
    In this void where nothing could reply,
    Only silence reigned beneath the sky.

  • Fright and Horror

    Fright and Horror

    Fright and horror ruled the night,
    Within that house of crumbling stone,
    Where shadows swirled with dread and fright,
    And chilling whispers, all alone.

    The hearth, once warm, now cold and still,
    Had seen the darkened spirits roam,
    Their blast a chill, their presence ill,
    Made mortal hearts a haunted home.

    In faded tapestries of old,
    Where spectral eyes gazed from their frame,
    Fright and horror did unfold,
    Their stare was a harbinger of shame.

    Through moonlit panes and misty gloom,
    A figure roamed with spectral grace,
    Its eyes aglow, a foreboding doom,
    Its silent steps a grim embrace.

    Fright and horror held their sway,
    As echoes moaned through hollow halls,
    Where time and dread had lost their way,
    And shadows clung to ancient walls.

    In every scrape, in every groan,
    A tale of fear was sharply drawn,
    Where once was light, now dark is sown,
    And glimmer’s truth is nearly gone.

    A portrait hung of mournful hue,
    Its subject lost, a fate unknown,
    Fright and horror to the few
    Who dared to tread where spirits sobbed.

    The house, now left in deep darkness,
    Tales of its terror plagued,
    Panic and anguish in restless sleep,
    Tormented the realm where darkness ruled.

    Fright and horror wove their spell,
    In labyrinths of endless gloom,
    Where every corner hid a legend
    Of sorrow sealed within each chamber.

    No light could pierce the shrouded veil,
    No sound could chase the spectral dread,
    Since in its chasms, the horror has passed
    Bounding every soul that dared be led.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Endless Labyrinth

    The Endless Labyrinth

    The endless labyrinth dwelled in a forest, deep and twisted tight,
    A maze lay hidden from the light.
    Its paths wound through eternal night,
    Where echoes whispered of lost fright.

    Each turn and corner led to despair,
    A maze of terror with no hope of repair.
    The trees grew closer, their branches gnawed,
    As shadows swirled around the clawing darkness.

    Lost dreamers wandered within its grip,
    Guided by whispers that would never slip.
    Their pleas for help were swallowed whole,
    By the labyrinth’s heart, where darkness took its toll.

    The walls, adorned with names of the lost,
    Bore witness to a chilling cost.
    Those who ventured, drawn by fate,
    Found their lives sealed by the maze’s gate.

    The endless labyrinth would claim its prize,
    Feeding on the terror in their eyes.
    And those who entered, never to leave,
    Were trapped forever in the dark reprieve.

    No light could pierce the dense and thick fog,
    No sign of longing in this sinister alcove.
    The air grew heavy and full of dread,
    As the dreams entered, their hopes were long dead.

    The labyrinth, a creature of ancient woe,
    Devoured the light, the flames, the glow.
    Its paths were twisted, wicked and cold,
    A monument to fierce nightmares.

    Fragments of life, faint and lost,
    Went astray through the maze’s frost.
    Each cry for help, each mournful plea,
    Merged with the maze’s eternal spree.

    The gardens beyond became a distant dream,
    As the labyrinth swallowed, all that gleamed.
    No exit was found, and no path was clear,
    Just the dark embrace of endless fear.

    In the heart of the maze, time ceased to exist,
    An eternal torment shrouded in mist.
    Endless paths led nowhere near,
    Trapped in a void of despair and fear.

    The endless labyrinth claims its own,
    And leaves the lost to wander alone.
    No escape, no final breath,
    Only the whisper of approaching death.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Vanishing Mysteries

    Vanishing Mysteries

    Vanished mysteries faded in the twilight’s embrace,
    Where secrets lingered and shadows interlaced.
    Legends of dreams veiled in sullen clouds,
    Lost in the aether, where they drifted out.

    In the stillness of the night, where silence reigned,
    Whispers dissolved into quiet vestiges.
    Once vivid scenes were now ghostly thin,
    Slipped away as darkness drew in.

    By the moon’s cold glare, where shadows ruled over their realm,
    Mysteries swayed in their final clasp.
    Glimmers of truth, now just out of reach,
    Hid in the night’s darkened breach.

    Forsaken alleys and hidden doors,
    Enigmas lost on unseen shores.
    Bygone mysteries left behind,
    At the mercy of wandering winds.

    Pale sighs in the cool night air,
    Told of truths no longer there.
    Phantom stories once held dear,
    Faded away as dawn drew near.

    In archaic forests, where night prevailed,
    Paradoxes lurking along hidden paths.
    Moonlight cast its silver sheen,
    On vanished tales and broken dreams.

    Old ruins, riddles long past,
    Secrets kept but never to last.
    Mysteries cast in shadow’s hold,
    In the halls where dreams grew cold.

    In the fog where silence assembled,
    Lay the end of vanished lanes.
    Mysteries lingered, then were gone,
    In the fleeting touch of dawn.

    Through ancient woods and misty moors,
    Mysteries slipped through unseen doors.
    Were lost to sight into the night’s embrace,
    Leaving whispers in their trace.

    In the tranquillity where shadows danced,
    Ancient sighs drifted away.
    Each nook held a tale so frail,
    Of vanished dreams and secrets pale.

    In the night where secrets come to an end,
    Rested the mysteries, now at peace.
    Disappeared in twilight’s seam,
    Lost forever in a dream.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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