Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: nature

  • My Heart Is Made Of Ink

    My Heart Is Made Of Ink

    My heart is made of ink and blood
    My heart is made of fantasy and dreams
    Surreal place of celestial beauty and stars
    An enigmatic and impenetrable domain

    A realm where thoughts are tangled in fragile webs
    And spectral creatures swirl beneath the silvery light of forsaken moons
    While silent winds carry tales from ancient fables
    Under a sky brushed with infinite hues

    In this realm, I am both adrift and entwined
    My heart is bound to the ink that flows through my veins
    My entire body is blooming like a flower of rhymes
    Where verses unfurl from my petals and thorns

    A world tempest of emotions surges in my heart
    Crumbling my essence into the dust of decay
    Carving elegies upon the hollow firmament
    Where no stars are allowed to shine

    The constellation of startling stars dissolves into the abyss of emptiness
    The obscure chasm that stretches in front of me
    Alluring me in its terrifying emptiness to swallow my soul
    While letters are dripping from my fingers like midnight raindrops

    I became part of the eternity of the abyssal night
    I am no longer bound by shapes or names,
    I dissolve into the void of eternity,
    Like a tiny snowflake lost in the stillness of oblivion

    My desires are fading into the marrow of the darkness
    Within the silence, mysterious secrets are engraved in the bones of dreadful shadows
    And unspoken ballads are waiting to be unconcealed
    An inextinguishable flame is burning and flickering within the core of twilight

    I am drowning in the deep abysm
    Although even in the most profound darkness, ink still flows like blood from my heart
    And my insolent utterances burn against the void
    A ghostly glimmer where stars once shone

    My heart is made of ink and darkness
    My heart is a requiem of dreams and sorrows
    A secret alcove veiled by the mist of silent elegies.
    Elisabetta

  • Laments in Oblivion

    Laments in Oblivion

    Laments in oblivion faded away like ephemeral tears,
    Becoming crystal gems caught in the night’s dark mirror,
    Where dreams lingered, fragile, on fleeting gusts of wind,
    And relinquished fragments of hope were bound to a silent death eternally.

    Darkness reigned over the realm of light;
    No eternal flame granted lasting life,
    While sorrow bled from noiseless abysses,
    Where forgotten hearts wept in silence and despair.

    The moon’s cruel glow was a mournful gaze,
    Illuminating all that was forsaken, lost in haze.
    Each tear became a star, each sigh a spark,
    Vanishing gently into the infinite dark.

    Spectres swung on a temporal precipice;
    Memories tarnished, turned into mere dusted rhymes.
    Radiant longings became dimmed and pale,
    And, in the chasms of silence, unveiled their tales.

    Ethereal glares and gentle cries of dismay—
    They belonged to the realm of stupor.
    Laments in oblivion were the only vestiges that lasted when remembrances died,
    Tormenting dreams beneath the moonlit skies.

    Dark clouds moved sombre and ominous,
    Crossing skies that never encountered vexation.
    Wanderers hovered among the glooms,
    Guided by phantoms in slumber and reverie.

    Sorrow and delight entwined together,
    In a languor that let the desolate trees weep.
    Lovelorn, broken hearts, once blazing and bright,
    Danced their last waltz in the smothering night.

    Faint glimmers flickered and swiftly withdrew,
    As the night devoured, each spectral hue.
    Memories withered like extinguished flames,
    Leaving only the ash of forgotten names.

    The stars lay imprisoned within the abyss of nothingness,
    Bound by eternity’s sorrowful plight.
    Clinging to remnants of fading light,
    Such glimmers dissolved into shadows in a deathly sleep.

    Laments in oblivion were consumed by the night,
    Hidden in shadows, beyond all light.
    Gone to silence, lost to the night,
    Drifting softly from mortal sight.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Storm of Doom

    The Storm of Doom

    The storm of doom had begun to roar,
    A thunder rolled upon the moor.
    The skies had grown black, the winds unchained,
    As darkness drowned the earth in the rain.

    The lightning had cut a jagged seam,
    A fractured night, a shattered dream.
    It had struck the tower, ancient, grim,
    A tomb for those who dwelled within.

    The windows rattled in their frames,
    The hearth’s flame flickered and then proclaimed,
    Its dying gasp in choking ash,
    While echoes of the lost desires had crashed.

    The walls had wept mould, the ceiling cracked,
    As shadows crawled from ancient tracks.
    Their forms were vague, their voices cried,
    A haunting wail that never died.

    Beneath the storm of doom, despair ruled in all its might,
    Devouring everything in endless nights.
    Its fury had fed on grief and dread,
    And sought the hearts of those misled.

    The ocean had churned in wrath below,
    As wretched waves crashed to and fro.
    The cliffs had eroded, the earth had given way,
    And night consumed the light of day.

    When silence fell and the wind subsided,
    The storm of doom retreated, but death abided.
    Its final sigh had been a chilling hymn,
    For those who had met their fate within.

    In the abyss where shadows and darkness crept,
    Arcane secrets awakened, and the lost souls wept.
    A dance of phantoms, sorrow’s choir,
    Ignited the aura with ghostly fire.

    They whispered tales of what once had been,
    Of lovers lost and ancient scars.
    In every crack, in every sigh,
    The dreams lingered and never died.

    The storm might have faded, but memories clung,
    In haunted hearts, they twisted and sang.
    For as the tempest faded from sight,
    The boundless night consumed every fading light.

    Euphoric and lush senses were only mirages in the imagination of dreamers who fell into oblivion.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • A Tragic Fate

    A Tragic Fate

    A tragic fate ruled beneath a mournful autumn sky,
    A forsaken shade stood with a tearful eye,
    And a stare falling upon a distant stone,
    Where memories lay carved in bone.

    The winds had howled low; the trees had bent near,
    Whispers were carried, fraught with fear.
    A tragic fate, so cruelly spun,
    The story ended where it had begun.

    It was a gloomy tale of a life forever paused,
    A frail and fair existence swallowed by despair’s cruel snare.
    The wanderer watched as doom took its due,
    Helpless as its darkness grew.

    A wilted rose lay upon a grave,
    A token of a life once given.
    In nights that wept and days that knew despair,
    Absence haunted in hollow air.

    The earth was consumed, the coffin decayed,
    Life was reduced to memories soon forgotten.
    What solace could the grieving find,
    When death had left the world behind?

    The ravens summoned from their twisted trees,
    Evoked echoes lingered in the bitter breeze.
    Forgotten mortal fragments traced the path,
    To where the silent shadows did laugh.

    A chill resided in every gust of heft,
    Every sigh became a dirge that spoke of death.
    The sky hung heavy, draped in grey,
    As if mourning the world’s decay.

    In every shroud of mist that swirled,
    The darkness deepened, and silence curled.
    Beneath the ground, the roots entwined,
    To claim a body once divine.

    The clock ticked on, though spirits faded,
    Their murmurs were lost where graves were laid.
    And as the night unfolded its veil,
    The air grew thick with a mournful wail.

    Beneath the mournful autumn shade,
    Two souls rested, their debts repaid.
    The earth reclaimed its lost embrace,
    And time forgot each sorrowed face.

    In the gloom, an eerie glare burnt in all its might,
    It kept flickering dimly through the night.
    It wove between the gravestones’ gloom,
    A ghostly waltz, a dance of doom.

    At last, voices from the shadows called,
    They whispered tales of love’s great fall.
    The leaves rustled with each breath,
    Carrying echoes of untimely death.
    A tragic fate was inevitable for the eternity.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • 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

  • Hollow Nights

    Hollow Nights

    In hollow nights when the stars dared not shine,
    Dreams wandered through hidden mazes, lost in the pine of yearning.
    The aura, full of gloom and despair,
    Bore witness to nightmares that haunted every tear.

    The moon, a mere phantom, cast shadows so pale,
    Illuminated paths where memories wailed.
    Each rustle of leaves echoed tales of the past,
    Of elation that lingered, of joy that would not last.

    I trod lightly on secret spells, each tale hid behind a soft sigh,
    In the silence that wrapped me, I could only comply.
    The darkness embraced me, a cloak worn so tight,
    As I was lost through the remnants of a once-bright night.

    The trees stood like sentinels, guarding the pain,
    Of lovers long lost and the tears that remained.
    Their branches, like fingers, reached out to the moon,
    As if begging for solace, a fleeting tune.

    In the heart of the night, where shadows conspired,
    I sought out the devotion of a long-dead fire.
    But the embers lay cold, buried under the frost,
    A reminder of passion, of the love that was lost.

    And yet, in this hollow, a strange harmony I found,
    In the stillness that lingered, a gentle, soothing sound.
    Since the hollow nights were filled with the past,
    A labyrinth made of memories gathered.

    So I wandered through Twilight, embraced by the night,
    In the hollow of silence, my dreams faded under invisible clouds,
    Each gust of wind was a ghost of delight,
    In the desolate nights where the stars dared not shine.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Embrace of the Void

    The Embrace of the Void

    In the embrace of the void, where shadows entwine,
    I surrendered my heart to the arcane silence.
    Here, in the stillness, all sounds had ceased,
    I found my own peace, but my spirit was leased.

    The night wrapped around me like a lover’s caress,
    With each sigh, I let slip a whisper of grief.
    I wandered through landscapes where no light could intrude,
    Lost in the abyss of a sorrowful realm.

    The stars above flickered like memories gone,
    Their light was just a glimmer, a glimpse of the dawn.
    In the embrace of the void, time slipped away,
    A moment eternal, where shadows held sway.

    I felt the cold raindrops of darkness draw near,
    A shroud woven tightly, instilling pure fear.
    Yet strangely, within this chasm, I discovered a treasure,
    A comfort in stillness, a profound solace.

    For what is the void but a mirror of myself,
    Reflecting the depths of my own anguish?
    I wandered unanchored, yet strangely at home,
    In the embrace of the emptiness, forever to linger.

    The silence, a canvas where thoughts drift and sway,
    In colours of longing, that time can’t allay.
    Each heartbeat was a reminder of love left behind,
    In the void’s deep embrace, my heart was unconfined.

    And so I perpetually abide in this realm of despair,
    Where shadows stroke me, and darkness stands revealed.
    Since, only in the embrace of the void, I am free,
    Forever entwined in this haunting decree.

    In the oblivion, I confront the phantoms that dwell in my mind,
    A haunting chorus of echoes, relentless and cruel.
    In dreams and nightmares, I’m lured into this desolate place,
    Hence, I embrace the infinite darkness, each shadow, each sorrow, each trace.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • I Am an Infinite Essence

    I Am an Infinite Essence

    I am an infinite essence, not a face nor a body,
    I am not a nationality nor a religion,
    I am not a temper nor a character,
    I am not my long blond hair nor my skin’s colour.

    I am not the scars etched on my soul,
    Nor the joy that dances in the light,
    I am not the silence of stories untold,
    Or the shadows that stretch in the night.

    I am not the title upon my name,
    Nor the career I chase in the fray,
    I am not the victories or the shame,
    Or the words I’ve spoken that led me astray.

    I am not the eyes that gaze at the sky,
    Nor the hands that reach for the stars,
    I am not the dreams that flutter and fly,
    Or the burdens that cling like invisible bars.

    I am not the laughter that spills from my lips,
    Nor the tears that carve rivers on my cheeks,
    I am not the journey of countless trips,
    Or the wisdom in silence when no one speaks.

    I am not the colours that paint my mind,
    Nor the paths that I’ve wandered alone,
    I am not the future I hope to find,
    Or the echoes of a heart turned to stone.

    I am not defined nor definable,
    I am an infinite essence, like the universe,
    A fabric stitched, forever bold,
    Each thread is a story, a cosmic verse.

    I am the multifaceted gem in the light,
    Reflecting hues of joy and despair,
    A mosaic of shadows, both dark and bright,
    Embracing each layer with the boldness to dare.

    I am the chains of the past that bind,
    However, I rise, unshackled, to embrace the new,
    In every facet, my essence is defined,
    A symphony of being, forever true.

    I am the whisper in the depths of the night,
    The pulse of the earth beneath the grounds,
    I am the spark that ignites the fight,
    The heartbeat of dreams, raw and sweet.

    I am the uniqueness that flows like a stream,
    Unbound by the labels that people assign,
    I am the flicker of hope, a fragile dream,
    A quilt of tales, uniquely mine.

    I am the silence that lingers, a tranquil embrace,
    The truth that transcends all the ways that divide,
    I am not a single reflection but a multifaceted blaze,
    In the vastness of being, I choose to abide.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Endless Grief

    The Endless Grief

    The endless grief, born in the deepest shadows,
    Where sorrow grew, and demons crept.
    A silence dazed the eerie aura,
    A weight too much for hearts to bear.

    The rain fell cold, the sky was bleak,
    The soul became frail and the mind weak.
    A distant toll of bells transformed into a choir of cries,
    A dirge for those who dared to wander too far away.

    The endless road of mourning winds,
    Through shattered hopes and twisted desires.
    No company was found, nor voices to be heard,
    Just endless grief that claimed every living creature.

    The endless grief, a cursed refrain,
    A perpetual march through infinite pain.
    The night devoured the light of day,
    And dragged the hearts to slow decay.

    A castle cold, where shadows reigned,
    Sighs echoed in darkened walls.
    A labyrinth with thorns and tendrils of dread,
    Each path was a step closer to the death.

    The stars looked down with a hollow stare,
    Like frozen orbs that did not care.
    Their pale light painted the soil in frost,
    As every entity was bound and lost.

    The endless grief betrayed like a lover’s kiss,
    A poisoned embrace that none could ever be missed.
    It held hearts, it gripped souls,
    It swallowed whole all that was taken under control.

    In twisted woods where no life could have prospered,
    The path led where the cold wind blew.
    The trees, they moaned, their branches writhed,
    Beneath the sky where stars didn’t thrive.

    The river flew with quiet dread,
    A blackened stream for the living dead.
    Its waters whispered as they ran,
    A mournful hymn for what had begun.

    The endless grief, a heavy shroud,
    A curse that lingered like a minacious cloud.
    No dawn would have broken, no sun would have risen,
    No delight could have been born beneath these unlimited skies.

    The realm itself became a monument of stone,
    A place where nothing could make sense.
    The ground would have swallowed every shadow,
    And still, the grief remained the same.

    The endless grief never ended and never will,
    Through disfigured dreams, it wends and bends.
    It buries deep, it scars souls,
    A fate that no one can control at all.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Crumbled Castle of Lost Expectations

    The Crumbled Castle of Lost Expectations

    The crumbled castle of lost expectations stood in ruins beneath an indifferent sky,
    Its arches bent, its towers broken,
    Its promises faded away too soon.

    Winds howled through the hollowed halls,
    Where once the fate bright had shone.
    Dreams drifted like the autumn leaves,
    Long dead but never entirely gone.

    Shattered windows framed the sky,
    Where hope once rose but now fell fast.
    The crumbled castle of lost expectations
    Watched as time dragged out the past.

    Its walls had held such hopes and dreams,
    But those were buried deep in stone.
    Each vow, each word, each fleeting thought,
    Eroded by time, cold and alone.

    Forgotten by the world outside,
    Its gates, once open, were now closed tight.
    A monument to loss and grief,
    It drowned in the depth of endless night.

    The crumbled castle of lost expectations was a haven once,
    But like all things, it too decayed,
    Its walls were too frail to endlessly endure.

    There were relics and memories from years gone by,
    But now they were just ghosts in the air.
    Colours and glimmers, faint, like shadows passed,
    Through corridors that lead nowhere.

    A kingdom built on fragile hope,
    Now overtaken by despair.
    Every dream that once gleamed radiant now lay broken,
    Scattered everywhere.

    Vines crept over forgotten doors,
    Their tendrils strangled what remained,
    And ivy choked the marble floors,
    In time’s indifferent, endless chains.

    The crumbled castle of lost expectations witnessed the love that turned to dust.
    No joy remained, no delight, no glow,
    Only fragments of misplaced trust.

    Each stone, once laid with tender hands,
    Now crumbles under sorrow’s poundage.
    The days grew long, the nights grew cold,
    And silence sealed its final fate.

    A tower, once monumental, collapsed in pain,
    Its windows were ravaged, stained with tears.
    It fell not with a roar or cry,
    But with a whisper through the years.

    The shattered castle of forsaken dreams stood now as a tomb to all that was gone,
    A hollow relic of dreams once lustrous,
    And lives that flickered out at dawn.

    No sun will rise, no dawn will break,
    No voices will call out its name.
    Only the wind will mourn its fate,
    And time will erase its fleeting flame.

    A silent ghost whose memories were too faint to be kept.
    The crumbled castle of lost expectations fell to dust and ceased to exist.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah