Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: poetic emotions

  • The Shadows Of Shame And Madness

    The Shadows Of Shame And Madness

    The shadows of shame and madness spread over me like majestic, silent trees
    While the wind whispered decadent lullabies to my ears during my deep slumber
    I was dreaming and not, since I embodied my illusions in a game of love and hate
    I had even forgotten my name and who I really was becoming
    I tried to see my reflection in the several mirrors I encountered in my dreams
    Each moment I could hold my memories no longer
    I was incredibly erratic and mesmerised, although delighted
    I sensed the scent of deception in my withered flowers, so full of decadence and broken passions

    The shadows of shame and madness darkened my windowless and hopeless abode
    It was as if I had lost the ability to hold on to hopes that had vanished like grains of sand in the wind
    And for the first time, I could see the dark clouds as ominous omens
    I didn’t want to see because of the fear burning in my heart, bleeding for all the lost love
    I had embraced a lugubrious isolation and I had shunned every contact with mortals
    A deafening silence was my way to express myself and my feelings
    Dark shadows had filled my heart with dismay and disdain
    I had ceased to wait for my future tomorrows and I lived in an eternal state of fantasies

    In this realm with no time and orientation, it was like wandering in an endless desert made of dead roses and thorns
    Even the cold rain hit me with its icy drops full of vengeance and scorn
    As I encountered several versions myself dispersed along my path of dark solitude
    The more I knew the truth, the more I wanted to forget
    My only desire was to fly free like a bird among clouds and stars
    I longed so much to disregard all my dismay and distress
    As much as I could forget who I really was, however, I fell deep into the abyss of despair
    And the tears of remorse and regret covered my face like a thick veil of anguish

    I had embodied my own sorrow, and the shadows of shame and madness obscured the sky
    I didn’t see the sun or the moon, and the stars had shunned me
    I had been forsaken by my own wicked fate
    I wandered endlessly to fall in love with my dreams again
    I strove to start again as I was never born
    Although my heart was on fire like an inextinguishable flame, the burden of exhaustion sank me deep down the chasm of impenetrable and mighty darkness
    I had vanished in the emptiness like a withered flower in the stormy wind
    And not even the flowers and trees recalled my name
    As I was never born.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • The Well Of Phantom Wishes

    The Well Of Phantom Wishes

    The well of phantom wishes
    Was the well of my disappointments
    Of all those illusions
    That had deceived me
    In a malevolent way
    With their allure
    And their way of
    Misleading me
    With fake smiles and phrases
    Like lines from a script
    But in truth, it was all fake
    Every single thing
    And every
    One I had known, glimpsed
    Were nothing but
    Delusional
    Realities
    Beneath
    A deception
    A cruel deception
    That dragged me down
    Into that well
    So deep and so dark
    That I could not glimpse
    Any
    Vision
    Any hope

    My tears were of no use, nor was my despair.
    My broken heart had shattered, like a crystal or stone ornament,
    its translucence and splendour reduced to dust and fragments,
    soiled by the cold ground, soaked in mud and decadent filth.
    That beauty I had once cherished within me
    had turned into a twisted transfiguration of my own reflection.

    What remained in my hands was dust and decay.
    I closed my eyes, and silence shrouded my thoughts,
    making them vague and fleeting like dark shadows
    that moved around me but I could never reach.

    One of my silver bracelets that shone like stars broke,
    and through its fractures, you could read my life’s illness,
    My malaise of living, my melancholic soul
    that had no peace and could find no place of salvation,
    lost among the clouds that darkened my mind.

    The pain was raining down on me like one of those cold and biting winter rains.
    Almost as if it wanted to scratch me and leave marks like painful and distressing memories that followed me wherever I went at any time.

    My sighs and sobs were mystified by that funeral silence of the endless night which had neither beginning nor end, and which wrapped me in its dark and misty cloak, almost to intoxicate me with its gloom and make me forget my infinite pain.
    Elisabetta

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