Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: obsessions

  • Entangled In My Own Disquiet

    Entangled In My Own Disquiet

    Entangled in my own disquiet
    I found myself in a state of confusion
    Collapsing into a vortex of chaos and despair
    I might have been able to overcome my fears
    But I was not capable of escaping the loneliness

    There were no mirrors in my secret dwelling
    Where candles and shadows were my loyal confidantes
    And an absolute silence was soothing me like a soft lullaby
    While my sighs hid tears of grief

    Thinking of myself as a tiny leaf in an immense ocean
    I was surrendered to fate, ready to be swallowed up in the abyss of oblivion
    Lost in a turmoil of obsessions and dismay

    Many times I wished to escape from the labyrinth of my fantasies
    But deceptions were always following my trail
    I knew no serenity
    Instead, I was condemned to wander endlessly

    Time didn’t know me as I existed in a surreal dimension
    I belonged to the realm of darkness and obliteration
    And I was a victim of the impetuous winds of the long winter night

    I felt the discomfort of reality
    It was like wearing a sumptuous dress made of thorns and quills
    I lived as a doll locked in an airtight box

    No creature could ever perceive me
    No creature could ever hear my sobs and sighs
    No mirror could reflect my image

    I was inevitably entangled in my own disquiet
    Although the stillness around me pacified my soul
    I didn’t feel any urgency to rescue myself
    Indeed, my drowsy heart couldn’t perceive anything anymore

    I had no longing, no desire left
    I’ve never been in the garden of devotion and love
    I’ve always been shrouded in clouds of invisibility
    Always surrounded by candles and spiderwebs
    Lost in a cloud of incense and blooming night flowers
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Extravagant Flowers

    Extravagant Flowers

    Extravagant flowers bloomed under the shape of luscious desires,
    In the nighttime darkness, they glowed in all their lush,
    A manifestation of fearlessness and carelessness veiled in madness.

    Bleeding flowers blossomed in the garden of doom,
    Where the land was soaked in blood and tears,
    Profane dreams were made of darkness and sorrow,
    Surrounded by the scent of dirty nightmares.

    Every statue in this luscious park was corrupted by the scent of frivolity,
    A labyrinth where completely oblivious travellers, delusional romantics,
    Wandered, losing themselves amidst the shadows of hollow trees.

    A storm of horror overwhelmed the garden,
    A blast of fear tormented the extravagant flowers,
    Leaving crystal blood drops to shine bright under the pale moonlight of dreadful dreams,
    Among the twisted branches of trees, where shadows swirled in trepidation.

    Time no longer existed in this realm of manias and insanity,
    Luscious blossoms became bleeding flowers during ominous nightmares,
    In a secret realm where turmoil ruled supreme,
    The garden of beauty and blood nourished itself on a storm of horrors.

    Sanity had lost its battle against the dominant frenzy,
    Foolish desires ruled this magical, decaying world,
    Where lavish and extravagant flowers bloomed in wild beauty,
    And the sanguinary blossoms thrived in their crimson, sorrowful decay.

    Fountains of amnesia adorned the garden,
    Their waters glistened a red glow under a darkened sky,
    Whispering promises of freedom, although they lured only deeper into oblivion,
    With their aromatic bleeding petals wet with forsaken tears.

    Extravagant flowers intoxicated the air with their fragrance of opulence,
    A perfume that clouded all the senses,
    Numbing reason and igniting insatiable longings
    For more—more dreams, more madness, more of this luscious delirium.

    This luscious maze, once filled with beauty, spiralled into a darkened utopia,
    Where bleeding flowers and lush desires intertwined,
    Feeding on the decay, the obsessions, and the fleeting hopes of delusional hearts.
    Its embrace was eternal, a cold and empty trap,
    Where the most dreadful agony wielded the most power.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Twisted Obsessions

    Twisted Obsessions

    Twisted obsessions of failed dreams,
    In the darkened corners of the subconscious,
    Where shadows unleashed dreams unwound,
    A world of obsessions, all alone.

    Whispers echoed through the sordid obscurity,
    Drawing wraiths to forbidden lights,
    A touch, a sigh, a fleeting glance,
    Lost in the thrall of a reckless trance.

    Desires stolen and broken, out of reach,
    Longings hidden, cruel and true,
    Yearning for those invisible chimaeras the day denied,
    In silent, shamed, and sleazy cries.

    Souls that sought what they should shun,
    Minds that ached for the undone,
    In a labyrinth of illusions and betrayal,
    Obsessions took their hidden refuge.

    A tangled web of despair and loss,
    A dungeon where dark passions bred,
    Haunted in a ghostly daze,
    Lost forever in a damning swirl.

    A gloom and spark remained amidst the chains of dissolution,
    On the deepest night, twisted obsessions ensnared all the dreamers,
    In an abyss of despair and fear with no turning points,
    Even if hope was not a lost cause.

    Twisted obsessions of gloomy fates were the cruel rulers of chaotic existences,
    Once again, they were reborn each nighttime,
    Under the influence of an uncertain order of arcane forces.

    Numbness and slumber remained faithful companions of painful reveries,
    Whenever the desire for despair and sorrow trapped every delight,
    In the midst of the chaos and unknown,
    A game of subjugation and delirium.

    Twisted obsessions and sad insanities,
    Danced on the edges of broken hearts,
    Feeding on the remnants of the soundness of mind,
    Spinning tales of endless binds.

    Sighs of broken promises were released,
    Only to fall into the most profound distress of the night,
    Where shadows became the only lonely and friendly essences,
    And the sun’s happiness was out of sight.

    In such a realm, where reality was fractured,
    Dreams and fears became a forest of drear,
    A fictitious masquerade of hopes defiled,
    By the weight of twisted time.

    Indeed, in the heart of this desolation,
    Every gleam of delight faded away,
    Souls were swallowed by the dark embrace,
    And lost dreams continued to fray.

    Twisted obsessions, relentless and cold,
    Fractured every delight into a shattered mould,
    Leaving behind a void where hope had once dwelled.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Torments Of Existence

    Torments Of Existence

    Torments of existence and death,
    Until the last speck of hope had been granted,
    To dreamers and illusioned vainly expecting realms of dreams,
    Underneath a starless night sky occluded by ignominious clouds.

    Despair hid behind shadows of forsaken longings,
    As the cold wind of fate chilled the bones of lonely ghouls,
    In the heart of the infinite darkness, where light dared not tread,
    And only silent screams of forgotten souls would reverberate unheeded.

    The essence of broken promises and shattered aspirations dissipated into the abyss,
    Unseen and unheard with a load of sorrow heavy as lead,
    In the midst of a reality binding and drenching them in perpetual twilight.

    No trace of lost dreams could have been revealed in the dark labyrinth of hunted spirits, Whose only solace lay in the embrace of eternal nights,
    For in this realm, the fragments of dreams merged with the wails of misery,
    Lost into the void.

    Torments of existence within a mournful maze of endless gloom,
    Within the depths of such despair,
    A gleam of defiance struggled to ignite,
    Amid the shadows of a dead heart.

    Every sliver of light strove to pierce through the suffocating dark,
    Until it became a frail memory of sick diseases,
    A weak flame that could not have endured the majestic abyss of emptiness,
    Swallowing every time and space.

    Death and destruction annihilated every hope and dream,
    Leaving only an empty desolation of shattered illusions and lost chimaeras,
    A barren expanse where the echoes of forgotten hopes lingered faintly,
    Relegated to the recesses of nightmares afflicted by the relentless tide of despair.

    In this forsaken domain, murmurs of bygone fantasies and dreams soared unrestrained,
    Hereafter reduced to haunting and obscene obsessions,
    The relentless march of time brought no solace,
    Only a deeper descent into the chasm of hopelessness.

    Anguished cries resonated eternally in an endless symphony of sorrow,
    And amidst the ruins of a world forsaken by light,
    Lonely figures wandered aimlessly, lost in the maze of torment and desolation,
    Spectres of once hopeful dreamers.

    In this realm where the sun dared not shine,
    And the moon’s glow was but a distant memory,
    Hope had become a relic of the past,
    A forgotten treasure buried beneath the weight of endless distress,
    In the presence of such overwhelming darkness.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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