Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: nightmares

  • Dreams And Tears

    Dreams And Tears

    Dreams and tears, in an age when night knew no end
    I dreamed while crying, my tears dissolving into faint shadows
    I was a sorceress obsessed with arcane spells and crimson flowers
    I was the most mysterious and elusive blossom in the garden of the eternal night
    Where I envisioned extravagant fantasies and alluring chimaeras
    I had become overwhelmed by darkness and obsessions
    My longings morphed into moths and ravenous incubi

    My obsessions consumed me in their dim realm of allure and doom
    I lay bare upon the damp and frozen earth
    Powerless as I was before the immensity of an ocean of nonsense and decadence
    Secluded in my alcove of turmoil, I passed my nights surrounded by nightmares
    Born to be the prey of my own folly
    When petals of frenzy pierced me like tiny thorns of despair
    Opening the portal to an obscure realm whose knowledge dazzled me permanently
    I was shattered and not inclined to see my own reflection in mirrors

    I felt the full consequence of my anguish on my chest
    As if a passionate spectre rested viciously upon my body
    While the snow caressed me, as if it were its purpose to soothe my languid soul
    My tears never left my face, descending onto the frozen soil and creating flowers of fire and darkness
    The crimson moon cast faint glimmers across the night sky
    Amid the chaos, the luminaries emerged in the shape of sparkling gems
    And the firmament echoed my name through the stygian abyss

    Suddenly, sulfurous and gloomy clouds concealed all the stars, enveloping the night in absolute murkiness
    All my dreams were burnt, and their ashes were buried beneath a gravestone
    I became infinite, and nothingness as well, surrounded by fiery flowers and garnet gems
    The everlasting flame within my heart was untamed and eager, like a feral creature
    And the night penetrated me utterly, a vicious presence of darkness.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Dreams And Chimaeras

    Dreams And Chimaeras

    Dreams and chimaeras make me forget my worries and anguish.
    Surrounded by memories, broken mirrors, and interrupted cries.
    I lie languid like a flower stunned by the morning dew.

    Silence is a sweet melody that distracts me when I no longer understand where life is leading me.
    And in the night I hear the sound of loneliness like a sudden omen of abandonment and defeat.

    The darkness paints imaginary landscapes in my mind.
    The sound of the clouds reminds me to forget my name and hang my soul upon the shadows to rest.
    Leaden nightmares drag me down into the abyss of despair.

    Far away I can hear the screams of my fears calling out my name.
    So I take the chance to follow their trail in the obsidian forest.
    Where I try to find my image in mirrors that whisper to me.

    Murmurs of pain and betrayal appear to me as shapes of magic bliss.
    In my madness, I exist as a free bird of the night.
    Closed doors become gates to infinity.
    Forever bound to my lack of reality.

    I live in the surreal chasm to which I will always belong.
    Abysm and love blend like mysterious revelations.
    They own my heart and my soul eternally.

    Imagination guides me toward the garden of illusions.
    I become the most delusional creature of the realm of shadows.
    Love caresses me as gently as a sharp snowflake.

    My heart is in an everlasting pang.
    Foolishness possesses me, as I advance in my wisdom.
    What I thought would have destroyed me gave me a spark of demise.

    I was lost and I was alive at the same time.
    As an inanimate doll with a burning heart.
    The nothingness stared at me in its boundless ferocity.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Beneath The Ocean Vault

    Beneath The Ocean Vault

    Beneath the ocean vault, there was a secret place
    where the hidden truths and the most recondite secrets had been buried.
    Among ruins covered by coral and algae
    and a rather unsettling expanse of swirling water.
    It was there that the crypt under the ocean lay,
    as if the sea had been its roof and also its home.
    Mine was a simple vision,
    it may be that I was dreaming,
    it may be that I was having these hallucinations.
    I only know that it was not the fruit of a conscious and calculated imagination.
    It seemed that I had abandoned myself
    to the sound of the stormy waves on an autumn evening.
    When the faint light of the sky merged with the water of the ocean
    until merged as one unity.

    I closed my eyes and I abandoned myself to my imaginative madness,
    And I saw with even more clarity that marvellous and fantastical landscape
    which did not belong to me,
    But which in some way symbolised something of my past or of my future,
    because I, in the end, lived in the past and the future.
    My present was in oblivion.

    Beneath the ocean vault, my dreams had ceased to whisper visions and desires. In their place remained nightmares that drew their fantasies from bitter disappointments and atrocious memories. And it was in this labyrinth of water and darkness that I found myself entwined, clutched as if unbound by invisible chains.

    I found myself in an oceanic crypt where the sea creatures had turned into ghosts, hunting me like prey and a victim of their tortures and torments. My invocation to the cruel fate of a possible change, where I might have grasped a flower of hope, was to no avail. In the endless and vast infinite.
    Elisabetta

  • Absolute Despair In The Heart Of The Night

    Absolute Despair In The Heart Of The Night

    Absolute despair in the heart of the night. Struggling, wrapped in the glow of the stars and surrounded by the absolute darkness of the night, in a silence so complete it deafens me and leaves me aghast.

    Caught between a world of dreams and a world of reality in which I cannot find a place, I try to understand my identity, I try to understand what my heart desires, and I try to invent a world where I can live without trauma and without deception.

    Searching for truth in lies and trying to conceal my feelings behind dead trees of complacency. I wander, disoriented, through the labyrinth of my dreams, which sometimes seem nightmares and at other times delightful visions.

    My vanity makes me believe I can attain all that I desire, yet in truth, what I receive is always the opposite of what my heart longs to devour within itself. In vain I invoke the names of the deities of the night, struggling, weeping, and sobbing.

    My voice fades into nothingness, into silence, into the torpor of my restless sleep. It was as if I could almost touch, almost grasp the emptiness with my hands, yet never gather the gems of my yearning.

    Surrounded by the fleetingness of beauty and the decay of my yearning, I let myself go, I let myself go, I surrender completely to my desires, both carnal and spiritual. It is as if a mysticism had engulfed me, rendering my body immaterial.

    Dazzled and dazed by the piercing brightness of the stars, I find myself in an immaterial realm, mystical and dripping with aesthetic lust and paroxysm of beauty.

    I lie in anguish, in the decay of my very own shadow. I am not ashamed to express my wonder, for I regard it as a pure form of admiration and magnificence toward something my heart cannot even grasp.

    Absolute despair in the heart of the night—it was but the fruit of my illusions and hallucinations. Silent, I stood like a marble statue, exposed to the harsh elements of a nocturnal storm.
    Elisabetta

  • Nightmares And Visions

    Nightmares And Visions

    Nightmares and visions visited me in the middle of the night, when sleep abandoned me to an otherworldly realm never seen nor imagined.
    The fog had clouded every vision, and I could see nothing but the shadows of faint images—spirits moving around me.

    My light sleep was nothing but a portal to a world where torment awaited me, and my heart was torn apart, again and again, without mercy. My gentle expectations had dissolved into the dark horizon, and I could see them no more.

    Indeed, I had become a creature of darkness, devoid of ambitions and expectations, for in truth what was destined for me was absolute emptiness—the total absence of life, love, and joy.

    How could I have held even the smallest hope of escaping that realm of darkness and despair? I no longer knew what life was—full of light, full of love, of hopes and delights.

    Had I been able to foresee my terrifying fate, I might have fled—perhaps among the clouds or the stars—if they had taken me into their realm.

    I might have been melancholic, perhaps—I don’t know—because at that moment I refused to accept any kind of feeling that my heart wished to embrace within itself. It was as if my heart had been torn from my chest and replaced with thorns.

    Pierced and betrayed by that world full of conventions, hypocrisy, titles, and useless materialism, I fled far away but fell into the trap of the world I myself had created in my visions—and that is why nightmares and visions were my most faithful companions, without whom I could not have survived.

    I breathed my last breath and, sighing, surrendered to the cold, sharp, and cruel embrace of the otherworldly realm.
    Elisabetta

  • The Memories Of The Past

    The Memories Of The Past

    The memories of the past drag me into their swirling realm of despair.
    Alone, I find myself in a desolate place, a pit of the living dead—buried memories in the graveyard of my past. All I see are rows of lifeless trees.

    I pretend it is autumn, or perhaps winter, yet in truth this entire landscape is but a reflection of my dead and decaying soul.
    The darkness of the night does not frighten me—on the contrary, it is part of me. I am no longer who I once was; I have become a spirit of the night.

    The emptiness within me is filled with fears and regrets, and with all that I have lost unconditionally and irreversibly—things I shall never have again. And thus, the wreck of my existence: not only is it wretched, but also laden with pain.

    My cries of pain and my screams of despair are worth nothing. I have never been worth anything—only to wither my soul, already inscribed with daggers of disappointment and betrayals, inflicted by monstrous and mortally deplorable beings.

    All my crumpled desires and shattered dreams lie underground among the remnants of my memories and regrets. Left without emotions and left without words, I surrender to my nightmares, to my anguished obsessions that permeate my heart and tear it into a thousand pieces.

    My tormentors advance relentlessly, ready to tear me apart and destroy me in oblivion and forgetfulness. How much longer I must suffer, I do not know. I only know that cruel fate has entrusted me to the ship of the wretched and lost souls.

    The memories of my past haunt me insolently and give me no peace, and so I shall spend the eternity of my non-existence as a restless spirit.
    Elisabetta

  • Haunting Dreams

    Haunting Dreams

    Haunting dreams devoured my mind during my tormented nights
    When the wind didn’t pass through my hair
    And the only sound I could hear was the whisper of the black roses entwined with my hair
    My gaze was staring at the moonless night sky
    Hoping for some star to appear before me
    But I was alone while wandering in the dark forest of my nightmares
    Where no creature or spirit emerged in the thick mist of darkness

    As soon as the moon arose from behind dark clouds
    Its pale glimmer stroked my face like petals of roses
    I felt the shadows surround me while dancing like phantoms
    They touched my gown with their icy claws
    The tragedy of my existence manifested into a dark fantasy
    Decadence became my castle of gloomy phantasmagoria
    Desolation became my alcove where I felt dearly cherished

    I fell in love with my hallucinations
    Trembling with lust and desire despite their gloomy embrace
    Every trace of wisdom had parted from me
    I had drunk from the goblet of insanity and amnesia
    I was finally a creature of the realm of haunting dreams
    Protected in my eternal slumber, I felt secure
    The infinity belonged to me and I was destined to never perish

    Whimsical was my mood and mutable like the wind in the springtime
    Fear didn’t belong to me anymore because I was a part of this macabre kingdom of chimaeras
    Not even my name dared to echo in that sacred silence
    I now dwelled as a requiem in the ravine of eternity
    I was cradled by gloominess and crowned by illusion
    I was no longer alive in my haunting dreams
    A bloom in oblivion and a ghost in the grave of forgotten stars
    Eclipsed by my own dark fantasies, I vanished into the hymn of endless dusk.
    Elisabetta

  • Bound To A Spell Of Death

    Bound To A Spell Of Death

    Bound to a spell of death
    Condemned to feel the poundage of my grief
    Grief that manifested each day deep inside my heart
    Using memories to pierce my heart and let me languish

    I knew not what I was expecting behind the doorway of my fate
    The uncertainty and fears cloaked me in a dark
    veil
    I couldn’t see anything beyond my sight of discernment
    Since I was a prisoner of my own thoughts

    Bound to a spell of death
    I wandered in the wilderness of my nightmares
    Getting lost so many times that I embraced my disorientation
    Chaos and madness were manifestations of my true self

    My passions set my heart ablaze
    An inextinguishable flame burning in silence
    While the luminaries watched in silence
    I confessed my secret desire, a forbidden desire

    I couldn’t find any delight in my existence
    As if joy itself were always out of reach for me
    And solace was forbidden to a soulless creature like myself
    Since my birth, my body has been pierced by poisoned daggers

    I was bruised and my wounds bled blood and submission
    I came to the edges of the abyss of death
    I saw my life wither and decay to dust
    And I became a part of that underworld

    I felt a serpentine ivy chain me to a throne of decadence
    I was a captive in the dungeon of misery and destruction
    I drank from the goblet of oblivion and I forgot all my memories
    The devastation of my soul was irreversible

    The stars seemed to collapse in the darkness
    While thunders ruled the kingdom of the night sky
    Clouds swirled like ancient ghosts around my head
    And the wind howled secrets no creature could bear the sound

    I sat on my throne as a queen of shadows and decay
    The deafening silence surrounded me
    Hissing spectres crowned my dungeon made of sorrow
    A wicked destiny had cast an enchantment over me that I could no longer break
    I was eternally bound to a spell of death.
    Elisabetta

  • I Belong To The Nightmares

    I Belong To The Nightmares

    I belong to the nightmares and the nightmares belong to me
    As long as my heart still beats I will be a creature of the darkness
    Anguish and distress are the reflections of me in every mirror I encounter
    I have no name but my past is an abyss of obliteration
    I have a dread of existing because I belong to death
    I possess the gift of scorn and indifference because nobody ever loved me
    I’ve always been despised and estranged by every shadow of this world
    I don’t belong to anyone not even to myself
    I belong to darkness and death
    Having lost all those treasures I’ve cherished so dearly
    Now I’m left with nothing but the dust of decay
    My bones and blood and heart belong to the underworld of death
    A realm that despises every miserable being parading their ridiculous triumphs with vain and frivolous pride

    I belong to the nightmares and the dungeons of madness
    I never follow the trail of soulless being of this material world
    I stand alone in my misery and proudly away from everyone
    I don’t need anyone belonging to humankind because I feel only rejection
    I’m a shadow of the night and my heart belongs to whom is not anymore with me
    I sealed my heart with ancient crimson wax made of my blood and tears
    Pride no longer belong to my ethereal sphere, where I decided to enclose myself to avoid the corruption of falsity and hollowness
    The silence that I chose to embrace is deeper than a grave
    In my sanctuary reserved for the broken and cursed spirits
    I despise the sunlight, and I devote my fetish to darkness
    In my veins flow only blood made of sorrows and black ink
    I have become the manifestation of all my screams that nobody ever heard.
    Elisabetta

  • In The Dungeon Of My Decay

    In The Dungeon Of My Decay

    In the dungeon of my decay
    I was chained by my nightmares
    Although I strove to escape from them
    It was useless every attempt at freedom
    Since the last night, I fell into a deep slumber
    I belonged to the realm of nightmares
    The reality around me disappeared
    Nothing anymore was real but my screams and cries

    All my teardrops formed an ocean of madness
    My body floated inside this abyss made of water and blood
    All my sweet memories had become pins and daggers piercing my heart
    I embodied nightmares and dungeon
    A dreadful doorway revealed its den of iniquity to me
    I sowed my heart in blighted earth
    Under the blazing eyes of skull-born flames
    No longer affected by my own heart’s relentless pang

    I knew not what my fate would have reserved for me
    But that uncertainty lacerated my soul
    While I felt bewildered hearing oaths from shadows
    Sworn by voices twisted like serpents around me
    My madness tempted me to bury my long-forsaken past
    The sky above cracked like a porcelain sculpture
    Beneath the crimson light of merciless stars
    Stealing my bleeding longings from me
    
    I wandered through a maze of chains and candles
    From each mirror, memories shouted at me through the glass
    Delivering dismay and despair
    My bleeding heart was stitched with spasms and regret
    I was a miserable creature being left with only sorrow and solitude
    No hope and no love were reserved for me
    Fate had decided, and nothing could have been changed
    I lost all my tears, and I remained voiceless

    My despair was a constant dagger inside my heart
    And I had to surrender to its power and brutality
    A powerless and withered flower I had become
    I was a relic and a shadow of my nightmares
    No vital pulse remained inside me and no drop of blood was left in my body
    Life left me and death seized me
    I became a spoil in the dungeon of my decay
    Blood and the carcass of my heart remained the remnants of my body when I vanished into oblivion.
    Elisabetta

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