The Queen of Darkness lay on a bed made of dust of decay and fragments of dreams she had lost in the abyss of oblivion. Cast away from the ominous shadows of despair the moon manifested dismay hiding behind stormy clouds. While the stars glowed in vain, the feverish night captured their starlight. The creatures of every enchanted forest in the realm of dreams whispered hymns belonging to secret rituals. The nocturnal rain caressed the garden of sighs where the Queen of Darkness kept her most secret and vulnerable treasures, invisible to mortal sight. Whenever the eternal night granted a nightmarish desire to the Queen of Darkness, flowers cried shining pearls that she was preserving in a secret treasure chest underneath her mysterious garden. Wonders and marvels blossomed like precious blossoms in that splendid mesmerising realm whose inhabitants were creatures of the infinite obscurity. Elyse, the Queen of Darkness, spent entire nights reclusive in her fantastic castle, inhabited by spirits and ghosts from the Otherworld, who guided her through intricate quests of witchcraft and magic spells. Stardust and gloominess adorned the palace constantly illuminated by perpetual candles although darkness reigned all over the kingdom. The constant search for perfection fell into a snare in the instant Elyse made the acquaintance of the loss of all her treasures, which vanished into the emptiness. The despair and dismay captured her heart and she shed a flood of tears in the face of such a ghastly surprise. Moreover, the power of the Queen of Darkness became weaker and weaker, as if all the bad memories had taken over at that precise moment when Elyse had lost her hidden gems. What the fantastical fate of this fairy of the night might hold in store was largely unknown, yet the kingdom grew ever darker and more silent. The freezing winter had taken hold of this entire world of dreams and nightmares, and—alas—Elyse remained trapped in her castle, which was by then made of ice and thorny brambles. In that magical world, time no longer existed, and the only season was the freezing winter that had stolen away every trace of delights and sighs of joy. The night was there, watching, with the stars and the moon hiding behind an immensity of threatening clouds. Elyse, the Queen of Darkness, had also vanished, just as all her treasures and the flowers of her enchanted garden had disappeared. Everything seemed like chaos, and flowers of cold stone had sprung up everywhere in the kingdom. There was no end nor beginning now that the eternal oblivion had taken control of everything and nothing in the same way. And so it was that the legend of the Queen of Darkness became a phantasmagorical chimaera.
Elisabetta Esther
Tag: Otherworld
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The Queen Of Darkness
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Fragments Of Vanished Dreams
Fragments of vanished dreams were hidden in my secret garden, where I passed my nights crying bitter tears of grief and frenzy. Without a doubt, I was not surprised when the decrepit windows shattered as the impetuous wind made them sway in a rhythm that reminded me of a funereal elegy. The ancient clocks of my antique manor ticked each minute as if I were on the verge of waiting for some spectral visit to announce me dreadful revelations. And so the nights passed although I didn’t notice how fast time was proceeding since the day I lost all my cherished treasures, of which all that remained now were fragments of vanished dreams. Not enough tears could express the devastation devouring my heart viciously with a destructive passion. Affliction tried to softly soothe me as if the only way to embrace sorrow was to become despair myself with all the dismay I could possess. I wandered aimlessly near the small lake, which mirrored my mean-spirited mansion beneath the veiled countenance of the moon while hiding behind a shroud of dismal clouds. I desired so badly to smell the black flowers of vengeance, which adorned my garden once upon a time. Tired and torn my heart was aching with the utmost distress in the middle of a gathering of ghouls, which chaperoned me slowly like shadows from the Otherworld. No longer was I waiting for fate to alter the course of tumultuous events that ricocheted through my existence. My imagination was leading my yearnings astray into the abyss of oblivion, so discouraged by a chaotic mess of unfair fears. Alas, without any hesitation, I dared to attempt to free myself from that grip of oppression, but every endeavour of mine was in vain. Nothing had remained in the sacred place of my secret garden but fragments of vanished dreams, of which only memories faded by the mists of time remained to me.
Elisabetta Esther