Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: night sky

  • Sublime Magnificence

    Sublime Magnificence

    Sublime magnificence drapes the night
    A vision is woven from bright silver stardust
    I wander like a fairy, bathed in moonlight
    A wisp of silver, floating like a ghost in flight

    Mermaids enchanting melodies cast a spell over me
    I’m reborn in a fairy tale realm made of dreams and cotton candy
    The scent of luscious flowers bewitches me to the point that I lose my mind
    Beneath the vast sky made of sapphires and diamonds

    Whispers of agony and solitude are memories that poison my heart
    Nevertheless, I belong to my realm of dreams and fairy tales forever
    Eternity belongs to me and all my dreams have eternal life
    Illusions are my delights and pangs that make me fly and fall continuously

    I feel like an ethereal fairy who belongs to magic and darkness
    Because I’m made of light and darkness
    I’m concealed by my fears
    And shrouded in shadows, where my soul disappears

    My wings are made of phantasmagorias
    And they let me fly so high that I touch the sky
    Through empires of stars, I sail on boundless seas
    Wandering endlessly between dreams and reality

    I belong to a place where nothing is as it seems
    For I am both the tempest and the calm between the beams
    I’m made of sorrow and the sublime
    A blend of shadows and light, transcending time

    Sublime magnificence lingers in the abyss of mystery
    Where shadows conceal secret dreams that are as light as whispers
    I float through the ether, the stars are my lanterns, and the moon my compass
    I belong to my fantastical world where illusions bloom like flowers

    My soul is a garden of dreams
    A place where nothing can truly be tangible
    For I am the magic that swirls in the mist
    The twilight’s siren and the forsaken witch

    In this realm of wonders, I eternally belong
    Forever surrounded by sublime magnificence.
    Elisabetta

  • My Obscure Sides

    My Obscure Sides

    My obscure sides are so numerous that they cannot be contained by the vastness of the ocean. If someone sought to know them, I would say that I am only made of darkness, for no light remains within me.

    Beneath a cloudy night sky deprived of stars, I wander in my loneliness without any moonlight shining over me. Embracing my fears, uncautiously I explore all my darkest secrets.

    Bold and reckless I explore the most hidden recesses of beauty and mystery. I love to dance alone in the coldest winter nights under the cloudy sky. I love to be mad and foolish and never care about the consequences.

    I’m a courtesan and a poet, embracing my most feral self. I often forget my name and I don’t fit in any box of comfort and conventions. I’m free like a butterfly flying from one flower to another one.

    I adore being stroked by the frost wind and pierced by thunders of passions, feeling the poundage of my incubi on my body during my respite.

    My obscure sides hide quietly in the shadows of my heart. I’m bound forever to darkness and sorrow. Indeed, I’m dressed in an exquisite gown made of grief and tears.

    I love to indulge in my decadence and I love to lie languidly on a bed of flowers contaminated by the dust of decay. Broken like a shattered crystal gem I dwell in absolute silence, inside my dark chamber made of anguish.

    I love to fantasize and live in my absurd dreams. I’m a living paradox and an oddity outside the ordered realm of standard society made of entities who are already lifeless.

    Embracing the chaos within myself, I sink into the abyss of darkness, wrapped in a cloak of sorrows and illusions. Chained by invisible bonds, I get lost in the labyrinth of my imagination.
    Elisabetta

  • My Blank Pages

    My Blank Pages

    My blank pages of life and stories teach me to embrace the enigma of my fate
    Whenever I think about my future
    I can only see blank pages of a book still to be written
    With my patience and perseverance, I try to love the unknown

    I always change mood like a cloudy sky that lets the sun shine through the haze
    Sometimes I feel like a flower that has been sunburned in the summer months
    Oftentimes I feel like a leaf falling from its tree under the influence of an unpredictable wind
    Everything around me is a reflection of my true self

    I always avoid mirrors to not let them swallow my soul
    Indeed, I am a perpetual dreamer whose real image appears through rhymes and verses
    I will never know myself for I’m an infinite abyss of mysteries
    And I even don’t aspire to get all the knowledge of this universe

    Always metamorphosing into someone new
    I wait for the time that doesn’t matter anymore
    As I see my shadow disappear beneath the night sky
    Wandering and getting lost in the forest of doubts

    I don’t have certitudes and I don’t know how to embrace my future
    Sometimes I believe that I love instability
    Sometimes I think that I have a predilection for blank pages
    I’m a blank page waiting to be written

    Paroxysm of emotions is my way of expressing my true essence
    I’m made of dreams and illusions
    I suffer unbearably and I love being delusional
    A romantic is never a loser but an eternal source of magnificence

    I will never bow to power and oppression
    I’m a free spirit and like a wildflower, I love to catch a glimpse of the sky
    While the pouring raindrops fall all over me
    I wait for my dreams to come true and for my heart to be consumed by madness
    As a book with blank pages, my inner senses yearn to be filled with both bliss and decay.
    Elisabetta

  • Silent Lamentations

    Silent Lamentations

    Silent lamentations pleaded the night sky,
    Once, no hope could have been secured in the valley of hollowness and death.
    Lurking beneath the horizon, the stars complied with each illusion,
    Far away from the trees of wisdom and consciousness.

    In this forsaken realm where darkness swallowed all the light,
    The land lay silently barren, touched by neither dawn nor night.
    The moon, a waning spectre in the vault of gloom,
    Drifted above ancient ruins, where stillness was taken for granted.

    Amidst the skeletal remains of what once was alive,
    The whispers of despair through the cold wind contrived.
    Every rustle of the leaves, every sigh of the wind,
    Recounted forgotten tales and unfulfilled pleas.

    The shadows stretched beyond, their shapes entangled with the mist,
    Draping in the memories of those who still were resilient.
    Their voices mirrored faintly, like relics of a dream,
    Lost in the chasm where no hope dared to gleam.

    In this valley of despair where time itself was motionless,
    The night sky’s silent lamentations fell gently, a reflection of a frigid blizzard.
    Stars that once were loyal guides through the darkened night
    With time, they became spectral remnants swallowed by the blight.

    In this void of silent cries, no delight could have been found,
    An eerie trance of glooms cast no consoling sound.
    Archaic trees, gnarled and twisted, stood as silent guardians of woe,
    Their branches narrated fairytales of sorrow and decay that only the dark could have known.

    Beneath this veil of endless night and desolate atmosphere,
    Longings were but a distant memory, lost in infinite despair.
    In the senseless embrace of the abyss where dimness lay in wait,
    The night sky grieved for dreams that could never have been escaped,
    Forgotten tales and unfulfilled supplications.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Exquisite Brilliance

    Exquisite Brilliance

    Exquisite brilliance dawns upon the night,
    A tempest of stars, a gentle gleam,
    Whispering the secrets of their light,
    In dreams, they weave a silent silver stream.

    The moon, a sentinel in azure skies,
    A crescent smile illuminates the earth,
    Its tender glow reflects in phantoms’ eyes,
    And breathes to life a symphony of mirth.

    Beneath this firmament of endless stars,
    A forest stands in tranquil, hushed repose,
    The trees, like guardians of ancient scars,
    Hold stories that the midnight breeze bestows.

    The shadows swirl upon the forest floor,
    As fireflies paint trails of golden hues,
    A realm where myth and magic both explore,
    And nature’s song sings softly of its ancient tales.

    Upon a hill, a solitary pine,
    Stands regal, etched against the dark abyss,
    Its branches reach towards the line,
    Where dawn will blaze its fervent, fiery arc.

    Yet, in a fleeting, fragile hour of the night,
    The realm of reality surrenders to a gentle grace,
    Where time is paused and bathed in sacred light,
    A moment stolen from the day’s fierce chase.

    The waters of a silent, moonlit lake,
    Reflect the splendour of the stars above,
    Each wave reveals secrets that slowly wake,
    While dreams and nightmares seek the tender touch of delight and despair.

    And in this silent and metaphysical embrace,
    The night reveals its wisdom, pure and true,
    That even in the darkness, there’s a space,
    For bright-and-dim to find its way and gently woo.

    Exquisite brilliance, fleeting as death,
    Yet timeless in the memory it weaves,
    A whisper of eternity, it leaves,
    Echoing in the shadows, where silence breathes.

    So, as the dawn prepares to claim its due,
    Remembrance in the night’s serene expanse,
    The brilliance lingers softly, bright and new,
    A fleeting spark in night’s expansive trance.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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