Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: oppression

  • The Abyss Of Desolation And Affliction

    The Abyss Of Desolation And Affliction

    The abyss of desolation and affliction appeared to me in a dream.
    I could not tell if it was a hallucination
    or some malevolent spirit that had caught me
    in the torpor of my nightly slumber.

    Spectres appeared to me, agile and winged,
    Their claws etched marks upon my skin,
    As if to inscribe arcane messages
    Beyond my mortal grasp to decode.
    The moon shone bright and awe-inspiring above,
    An eternal night enveloped all,
    Where swirling clouds danced,
    A solemn escort to those shadowy phantoms.

    Figures cloaked in hidden mantles and hoods,
    As if unwilling to reveal their names,
    Lay inert along a river—
    At times, it was a still pond, and at times, it was a shimmering lagoon.

    I felt a weight of oppression and annihilation,
    As if all my feelings and desires
    Had been obliterated in the presence
    Of such a bleak and haunting landscape.

    I could not feel joy or enthusiasm
    At the very moment I realised
    That the slightest hope might be mistaken for illusion,
    Denying me the grace to surrender
    To my senses, to my subconscious.

    I walked with uncertain steps,
    So unsteady was the path before me.
    No clear horizon met my gaze,
    Only shadows stretching into the unknown.

    Having firmly shut the doors of the past,
    I had renounced all that belonged to that world,
    Memories included — or at least I tried to deny them.
    Yet certain ghosts of old, like skeletons risen from nightmares,
    Pursued me wherever I went,
    With steady, relentless steps.
    And I, breath held tight,
    Sought refuge in that realm of shadowy spirits.

    Monsters of a time long lost,
    They watched me slyly from their hiding places,
    Plotting behind my back a possible attack,
    A grasp for power, as if I were a helpless creature,
    Ready to fall into their claws.
    But truly, I knew well that my heart belonged to myself,
    And no one nor nothing could taint it
    With their corruption and decay.
    Elisabetta

  • The Realm of Dust and Decay

    The Realm of Dust and Decay

    The realm of dust and decay was the place where I’d been hiding all my life, hopeless and devoid of love.

    A frozen spiderweb trapped me like a doomed dungeon full of wickedness, oppression and violence.

    Fate hasn’t been fair enough to grant me mirth and tranquillity but instead reserved me a prison of decay and lifeless despair.

    Invisible chains of control and oppression were twisted around my body, making me wish to fall into the abyss of death.

    The nights were too long to keep my sanity alive, long enough to remember that I was alive.

    Every night was too long to endure the chaos inside myself.

    Like a storm, each day was a struggle to keep me alive without any wisdom and future sight.

    Dreaming about oblivion and escape to a realm of dreams and illusions.

    Dreams and fantastic tales were the only evasions from my reality that displayed brutal colours among the tedious rituals of phoney perfection.

    Having lost my essence and my innocence, I became a non-living creature.

    Believing that couldn’t be more different, the reality surrounding me like an ominous dark cloud.

    I fell into the abyss of self-obliteration and resignation, swallowed by an undesirable fate.

    Living a life at the mercy of the winds and storms.

    Feeling a tiny flower floating in the vast ocean of the unknown.

    Mad nightmares were constant visions, like surrealist paintings of despair.

    My secrets became my only identity, kept hidden like a treasure.

    As a living paradox and contradiction, I was just part of the realm of dust and decay.

    And there was no escape from the labyrinth that held me captive, like a bird stripped of its wings.

    And, as if in an absolute dream, I longed only to vanish into the infinite darkness, never to emerge again.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Abyss of Oppression

    The Abyss of Oppression

    The abyss of oppression was a realm of shadows and fear where hope decayed,
    And a silent grip began its play, winding in a dark embrace,
    And pulling everything into a hollow alcove.

    In haunted kingdoms, gloomy clouds distressed tranquillity,
    The poundage of insanity was so cruel and cold,
    That no hope dared to hold dreams and expectations anymore,
    While sinking in the deep and poisoned blight of fear.

    Starlight grew frail like a fragile gem,
    In an eerie aura that stained the sky dead,
    Beneath, where the sun had lost its way,
    Where longings lay cast but ghostly grey.

    In dismay, sorrow spoke aloud under the oppression’s grasp in endless nights,
    When despair rose to heights unknown,
    And fragile desires trembled in the invisible void,
    The weight of loss bore down, relentless, keen,
    As the oblivion feasted on the faint heart’s prayer.

    In that desolate realm where no light could endure,
    And where silence was torn by unheard wails,
    Weary hearts, caught in iron chains,
    Clung to fragments of memories grown pale.

    The skies collapsed like a suffocating veil,
    Where chimaeras, once shining, dissolved to dust and ash,
    And all that remained was a forlorn lament,
    As the abyss of oppression drew down in a final crash.

    The chasm of illusions swallowed every expectation,
    Leaving but a decayed vestige of misery and distress.
    Every gleam of promise faded into hollow whispers of betrayal,
    While enchanting raindrops soaked every dream in a sorrowful mire.

    In the shadows, spells enticed those solitary dreamers into fractured and senseless ravines of despair,
    Trapping them for eternity.
    Darkness claimed the last faint gleam,
    And despair surged forth like a relentless stream.

    In this realm of night, the shadows reigned supreme,
    Binding dreams in chains, silencing the soul’s scream.
    The abyss of oppression annihilated every mirth and delight, beauty and magnificence,
    Leaving a kingdom of chaos and insignificance.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • On The Verge Of Doom

    On The Verge Of Doom

    On the verge of doom, where shadows cling,
    Beneath the endless skies of decay, no light to show.
    A land of sighs and tears breathes its last, steeped in dread,
    As night consumes, the sun leaves all hopes dead.

    The scent of oppression pervades with shadows of despair,
    Each dream becomes an illusion as the world lies broken.
    The trees stand twisted, their branches bare,
    Grasping at the stars as if seeking solace unspoken.

    On the verge of doom, the silence reigns,
    A haunting emptiness of forgotten pains.
    The moon hangs dim, a spectre in the night,
    Casting ghostly glimmers, a wicked light.

    Raindrops fade softly along the cobbled lane,
    Where memories linger, steeped in anguish and pain.
    The castle looms, its towers cracked and worn,
    A sentinel of sorrow, where dreams are torn.

    On the verge of doom, in chambers adorned,
    With dust and despair, wraiths of phantoms curl.
    They beckon with tales of those lost to time,
    Of loves that withered, of life’s cruel rhyme.

    Hope strives to cling tenaciously to the edge of the night,
    A flicker, a spark, in the grip of the fright.
    But darkness devours, as it always has done and always will,
    And on the verge of doom, all battles are worthless.

    On the verge of doom, the silence hangs heavy,
    Darkness creeps upon all realms, its grip tightening fast.
    Desire turns to ashes, consumed by the keeper,
    In this hollow silence, all dreams are betrayed.

    In the echoes of silence, in the depth of the gloom,
    Lies the haunting refrain of impending doom.
    Among the shadows where the weary hearts dwell,
    Forever entwined in the web of the invisible.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Reign of Oppression

    The Reign of Oppression

    The reign of oppression had fallen on the land,
    In ancient days, when freedom’s garden had blossomed,
    The skies had been untainted by the foe,
    Its wings had unfurled, a beacon in the sun.

    The meadows had danced beneath the open skies,
    Their verdant hues had been untouched by lies.
    The rivers had sung in tones both pure and free,
    Reflecting realms of boundless ecstasy.

    Time had wrought a shift in fate’s domain,
    As freedom’s light had fallen to the chains.
    The voices that had risen in liberty
    Had been muffled by the reign of oppression.

    The banners that had fluttered in the breeze
    Had draped in silence, heavy with unease.
    The once-bright fields where dreams had intertwined
    Had been stilled beneath the reign of oppression.

    Where happiness had glided through the sylvan glades,
    Now mournful anguish haunted twilight shades.
    The grandeur of a realm once free and grand
    Had been replaced by iron rule and harsh command.

    The sovereign’s grip had tightened power sternly,
    Freedom’s echoes had faded, dim and worn.
    The courts that had once rung with the people’s voice
    Had been stifled by the reign of oppression.

    The skies, once clear, had been cloaked in dusky grey,
    As freedom’s sun had been veiled by shadows’ sway.
    The land had lain still beneath the reign of oppression,
    Where liberty had succumbed to iron’s chain.

    In the quiet, memories long faded
    Had sought to evoke all of freedom’s light, outclassed.
    The reign had ruled where once had freedom bloomed,
    Its dominance was a shadow in a silent tomb.

    Through fragments of the past and sighs departed,
    The stark reminder of a freedom thwarted.
    The hollow grave where once a spirit thrived,
    Now bore the weight of dominion’s drive.

    In endless night, no dawn would break the gloom,
    The shadows of the past were lost in doom.
    Where once was life, now silence held its reign,
    The void of freedom’s cry was left in vain.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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