Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: phantoms

  • Gilded Illusions

    Gilded Illusions

    Gilded illusions visited my dreams
    In the eternal night that enveloped me like a diaphanous veil
    I lingered far from every mortal sight
    In my dwelling made of stars and dreams

    The moon was bleeding silver onto withered blossoms
    And I was a phantom wandering through chambers carved from bone
    Among candles that wept in crystal flocks
    While silence deepened in this dark dungeon of memories

    Eerie whispers of the dead rose from broken mirrors
    From each cracked and gloomy surface emerged a spirit of the past
    Their hearts were cold and hollow for their ancient dismay
    And their anguish echoed until the stars of the night firmament

    Whenever I aimed to reach for the stars
    They disappeared into the emptiness
    Leaving me alone in my despair and decay
    While the striking of time split the silence like a blade

    No hesitation could help me to reacquire my wisdom
    I knew that I had lost my freedom to embrace a life of madness and turmoil
    Nothing could have altered this realm of death and decadence
    Every divine bliss was destroyed by my fate

    I belonged to the realm of dust and decay
    I was reduced to following the darkness
    The more I wept, the tighter drew the chains of my bondage
    All my gilded illusions faded away in the void

    Surrounded by the hollowness of dilapidated sarcophagi
    I heard lullabies of sorrow that hovered like ghouls
    Shadows long departed from the realm of life
    They waited to converge on the abyss of the underworld

    My chains transformed into silver and gold serpents
    They became my guardians in this surreal world ruled by illusion and deception
    Crowded by hissing ghosts and perpetual twilight
    And in this sublime dejection, I found my refuge.
    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

  • The Dungeon of Sadness

    The Dungeon of Sadness

    The dungeon of sadness was a trap of beauty and delight,
    Luring dreams and visions to embark on a journey in its labyrinthine trails,
    Until they were soaked in sorrow and grief,
    Like dead leaves trapped in a swamp.

    A suffocating heft bore down, laden with despair,
    Wrapping around like an overwhelming shroud.
    The walls wept, their stone faces slick
    With tears of ages long forgotten.

    A faint glow oozed through the fractures,
    Not of longing but of some unearthly dread,
    Casting shapes that jigged like phantoms,
    Teasing the lost who wandered within.

    Corroded chains clung to the slammer’s bones,
    Each link was an eerie monument to captive dreams.
    The silence wailed louder than screams,
    Like oppression depressing the weary senses.

    This labyrinth of grief and distress became a realm of nightmares,
    Where there was no escape but only deception.
    The sky became overcrowded with ominous clouds,
    Which smothered all the luminaries striving to gleam through the gloom.

    A mist of languid sorrow and melancholy steered like a lugubre presage,
    Hope was a fleeting spectre whose whispers drowned in the ocean of oblivion.
    The mirror of torments reflected the anguish of each soul,
    And all the joy and light were depleted in the dungeon of sadness.

    The maw of despair devoured the time,
    And its beauty lay in the perfection of its torments,
    Such a cruel art that was engraved in endless suffering dreams,
    A lament that echoed eternally in the void.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Frantic Pangs of Dismay

    Frantic Pangs of Dismay

    Frantic pangs of dismay ensnared every passionate heart,
    Once it became trapped inside the abyss of solitude and delusions,
    Still and frozen was this garden of sorrow and grief,
    Where for each buried heart, a crimson rose arose in all its exquisite magnificence.

    No mortal could have dared inside this overwhelming realm of death and love,
    Whose soil was soaked in blood and betrayal,
    The blood of those unfortunate who fell prey to the magic spell of poisonous passions in the midst of secrets and arcane legends.

    Veiled in shadows lay the remnants of ephemeral oaths,
    Of lovers who dared, then despaired and dissolved in mist,
    Bound in the haunting chasms of this forsaken land,
    Where fervent vows were carved on stones now cracked and senseless.

    Each petal seemed to bleed, crimson-stained in sombre grace,
    An epitaph for souls who perished in love’s ruthless snare,
    While moonlight cast its pallid glow upon forgotten graves,
    And silence reigned, a ghostly song for all who’d met their doom.

    Beneath the roots, relics of devotion lingered motionless dead,
    In twisted knots and burning sighs, entwined in cursed despair.
    In this metaphysical world, phantoms of love and ardour abode, entangled in spectral chains,
    Each sigh came to be an eerie fragment, each stroke a haunting whisper.

    In the midst of the darkness, mist and hollow cries wandered, seeking the warmth of life yet condemned to eternal frost.
    Whilst roses gleamed in shades both decadent and dark,
    Fed by the remnants of hearts broken in bygone epochs.
    Each bloom was a monument to the souls who could not part,
    Bound by longings that left them to decay yet never fade.

    Frantic pangs of dismay flourished in that desolate garden under the weeping moon.
    A tragic fate was but just a warning and a memory of love’s cruel masquerade,
    While beauty buds, yet fester, lurked in the infinite and endless void.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • A Dream of Solitude

    A Dream of Solitude

    A dream of solitude in the immensity of the void,
    Like silent screams that faded away in the storm of darkness,
    In a realm where everything was upside down,
    And passions were repressed by a frigid wind of indifference.

    In the stillness of the night,
    Fearless dreams strived to rule the magic world of fantasy,
    Flowing like an impetuous stream,
    Emotions bloomed like nocturnal flowers.

    Everything was so close and so far, at the same time,
    The cold of the night attempted to freeze pulsing hearts in vain,
    What could have happened in the future,
    That was an arcane secret.

    Shadows swirled in the magnificent garden of forgotten hopes,
    Where memories lay buried beneath
    the weight of time,
    Like ancient relics entangled in thorns,
    Like unspoken words and broken promises,
    as if the very atmosphere exhaled sorrow.

    Dreaming was wandering through twisted paths,
    It was like getting lost in the labyrinth of unending despair,
    When blazing desires of light that once shone in distant days,
    But finding only the pale glow of a dying moon.

    Time seemed to fold upon itself, an eternal twilight
    where neither daybreak nor dusk could find its place.
    In the eerie stillness, whispers danced like phantoms,
    telling tales of love that perished in the void.

    In that darkness, no faint flicker could have endured,
    Indeed, every spark of light was defied by the overwhelming night.
    Every longing was a fragile dream clinging to the edge of oblivion,
    And ready to fade away into the infinite void.

    And so, utopias continued to exist for the eternity,
    The firmament shone because of the numerous stars that were glowing in it,
    Only for illusionary instants of time,
    Their light deceiving those who gazed above,
    Promising dreams that would fade with the dawn.

    The night was a canvas of shadows and lies,
    And hope was a flicker soon swallowed by the dark,
    Now, a dream of solitude was shattered like a frail crystal.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Enchantment

    The Enchantment

    The enchantment, a shadowed spell, had been cast beneath the twilight’s dying sigh,
    Where ancient oaks had swayed in the wind like phantoms of the past.
    A chant had echoed through the tangled woods, its cadence dark and deep,
    Awakening spirits have long forgotten from the caverns where they had slept.

    Amidst the stillness of nightfall, murmurs sighed endlessly,
    As unseen eyes had glowed dimly beneath a starless sky.
    The moon had hung low, a sallow face, pale as winter’s bone,
    Illuminating paths of sorrow where the lost souls had roamed alone.

    A mist had coiled through the midnight, cold fingers tracing near,
    Wrapping around the weary hearts that had beat with ascending fear.
    The trees, like crooked figures, had leaned closer to behold,
    The place where time had dissolved away, and every tale was told.

    At the circle’s heart, an altar had stood, adorned in faded lace,
    And there, a book of fateful words had lain bound in death’s embrace.
    With trembling restlessness, the pages had turned, each verse a dreadful sound,
    As secrets had slipped into the void and spun themselves around.

    The ground had begun to shake as shadows took their form,
    Emerging from the depths below, a writhing, ghastly swarm.
    Their voices had spoken in unison, a harmony of dread,
    Recalling all the lives once lived and all the blood once shed.

    Enchantments had surged through every vein, a venom cold and dark,
    Binding all who had ventured there with no hope of turning back.
    The winds had grown sharp, a biting chill that had pierced the very night,
    And overhead, the idylls had burned with a pale, infernal light.

    The spirits had danced in circles wide; their laughter had echoed grimly,
    A dirge that sang of vanished days and all that might have been.
    The ancient oaks had groaned softly as if burdened by despair,
    Their roots, entwined with cursed soil, had held fast in the bewitched air.

    The enchantment had deepened, drawing close, its tendrils ever tight,
    Until the world had grown distant, fading slowly from all sight.
    In the dark, the voices had faded, the spell complete at last,
    And silence had reigned where shadows had fallen upon the haunted past.

    Thus had lain the woods, forever bound by the magic’s cruel decree,
    A place where none could have ventured forth nor ever truly fled.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Macabre Dreams

    Macabre Dreams

    Macabre dreams descended like heavy rain on the realm of delusions,
    Transforming desires into distasteful visions,
    Where shadows writhed in the dim fog’s embrace,
    And twisted despairs occurred through the vast ocean of mirages.

    The stars and the moon were surrounded by a dim emptiness,
    Casting ghoulish shapes upon the walls of the night.
    A mournful wind disclosed secrets into hollow trees and dead flowers,
    Its outcry was a dirge that brought the whole realm to collapse.

    Phantoms wandered through the fields of forgotten woe,
    Tracing paths where only the lost dared to go.
    Their hollow laughter filled the startling ambience,
    Chilling the hearts of those who still rambled there.

    A spectre emerged from the gloom, draped in decay,
    With eyes like dim embers that slowly burned away.
    Its touch, a cold shiver, crept through the bones,
    Raising the cries of a thousand forgotten moans.

    Beneath the earth, where silence claimed its kingdom,
    And coffins murmured secrets of a restless death,
    The graves began to stir with a profound longing,
    As if yearning to rise from their slumbering soil.

    In this land where light dared not linger anymore,
    Hope dissolved, and sanity withered away.
    Time unravelled, thread by thread until nought remained,
    But the shroud of despair, eternally stained.

    Macabre dreams bloomed like tainted flames, unending,
    Their burning caress, relentless, always descending.
    No dawn would pierce this nightmarish domain,
    For here, the darkness reigned, unbroken, unfeigned.

    The whispers of the abyss grew ever near,
    Clawing at the remnants of a life once held dear.
    The burning moans of delusional dreamers grew louder, more distinct,
    Till even the silence trembled on the brink.

    And so the realm lay adrift, a world without reprieve,
    Where even the dead had no respite to grieve.
    An abyss of madness and cruelty was in its demise,
    For eternity and beyond.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Evanescent Chimaeras

    Evanescent Chimaeras

    Evanescent chimaeras were fragile,
    Like sand castles destroyed by violent tides,
    In the darkness of the night,
    Beneath a starless night sky.

    Lores of lost longings were engraved,
    On every dead leaf intoxicated by the blizzard.
    Fragments of ancient sorrow lingered,
    Frozen in the gusts of a restless wind.

    Shadows stretched like fractured dreams,
    And the moon hid behind a veil of despair.
    Broken mirrors reflected hollow trees,
    Where ephemeral wraiths appeared and faded.

    Their mournful cries dissolved in silence,
    Carried away to oblivion’s edge.
    Serpentine branches clawed at the void,
    Yearning for passions that they had never known.

    While flowers shuddered in the frozen earth,
    Guarding secrets buried deep and cold.
    The realm was endowed with the burden of grief,
    Each sigh was a flake of a dying flame.

    Evanescent chimaeras became crystal gems,
    Sparkling in the night’s relentless embrace.
    A dance of glares and glooms unfolded to disquiet the nighttime,
    In a subliminal fantasy of folly and beauty.

    Time seemed to wither away,
    And every sigh was a dreadful lamentation.
    The sky, an ink-stained canvas torn asunder,
    Seemed to bleed darkness from unseen wounds.

    Stars were but distant memories, fading,
    Like whispers of lost souls slipping into voids.
    Wails echoed through the cold stillness,
    Like ghostly hymns sung for a dying world.

    Mournful notes wrapped around this realm,
    Magic disintegrations obliterated every little light that remained.
    Phantoms wandered aimlessly through the haze,
    Their translucent forms trembled in the cold.

    They traced forgotten paths along the dusk,
    In search of places that no longer existed.
    In the chasm of that haunted silence,
    Evanescent chimaeras turned to dust once more,
    Scattered by the wind, forever vanished.

    Their fleeting dance was a requiem for the lost,
    An elegy woven into the night’s black shroud.
    And as the reality slowly succumbed to oblivion,
    Only despair and sorrow remained.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Storm of Doom

    The Storm of Doom

    The storm of doom had begun to roar,
    A thunder rolled upon the moor.
    The skies had grown black, the winds unchained,
    As darkness drowned the earth in the rain.

    The lightning had cut a jagged seam,
    A fractured night, a shattered dream.
    It had struck the tower, ancient, grim,
    A tomb for those who dwelled within.

    The windows rattled in their frames,
    The hearth’s flame flickered and then proclaimed,
    Its dying gasp in choking ash,
    While echoes of the lost desires had crashed.

    The walls had wept mould, the ceiling cracked,
    As shadows crawled from ancient tracks.
    Their forms were vague, their voices cried,
    A haunting wail that never died.

    Beneath the storm of doom, despair ruled in all its might,
    Devouring everything in endless nights.
    Its fury had fed on grief and dread,
    And sought the hearts of those misled.

    The ocean had churned in wrath below,
    As wretched waves crashed to and fro.
    The cliffs had eroded, the earth had given way,
    And night consumed the light of day.

    When silence fell and the wind subsided,
    The storm of doom retreated, but death abided.
    Its final sigh had been a chilling hymn,
    For those who had met their fate within.

    In the abyss where shadows and darkness crept,
    Arcane secrets awakened, and the lost souls wept.
    A dance of phantoms, sorrow’s choir,
    Ignited the aura with ghostly fire.

    They whispered tales of what once had been,
    Of lovers lost and ancient scars.
    In every crack, in every sigh,
    The dreams lingered and never died.

    The storm might have faded, but memories clung,
    In haunted hearts, they twisted and sang.
    For as the tempest faded from sight,
    The boundless night consumed every fading light.

    Euphoric and lush senses were only mirages in the imagination of dreamers who fell into oblivion.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Dreams and Spells

    Dreams and Spells

    Dreams and spells coveted in the abyss of shadows where phantoms crept,
    Wandering through a realm half-wept.
    The moon hung low; its face was pale,
    And whispered of a ghostly tale.

    The sky became gloomy, the stars were dim,
    As winds sang out a mournful hymn.
    Every path was lost in endless nights,
    Beneath a sky that held no light.

    Through twisted woods, the wanderers found a gate,
    Its iron bars were wrought with fate.
    A voice called out, both near and far,
    Like echoes from a fallen star.

    “Step forth,” it said, “into the dream,
    Where silence reigns and shadows gleam.”
    Those who crossed the threshold felt the spell,
    A touch of darkness known too well.

    The world within was strange and wild,
    Where reason’s grip was swiftly beguiled.
    The ground was ash, the trees were bone,
    Their branches cracked in a sorrowful tone.

    A figure stood with eyes like fire,
    A sorceress of dark desire.
    She raised her hand, the spell was cast,
    And time itself could not hold fast.

    The dreamers drifted then, their senses blurred,
    In realms where whispered words were heard.
    Each secret spoke of death’s embrace,
    Of haunted dreams and hollow grace.

    The stars fell down like frozen tears,
    Unveiling long-forgotten fears.
    Intense was the feeling of the pull of ancient woe,
    Beneath the weight of night’s cold glow.

    The sorceress turned, her gaze met the others,
    A silent bond both fierce and delicate like smothers.
    She beckoned close, her fingers curled,
    And swirled those unfortunates through her shadowed world.

    A beginning of a frantic dance upon a sea of mist,
    Where every wing gust felt like a tryst,
    With darkness draped in velvet black,
    And the time that twisted, bent, and cracked.

    The spell then broke; the dream grew thin,
    Those delusionals found themselves where they’d once been.
    The gate was gone, the night was still,
    But in every heart, there lingered a chill.

    For though every heart left that cursed realm,
    Its shadows clung; they overwhelmed.
    And in every soul, dreams and spells were bound,
    Whispered secrets lost, never to be found.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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