Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: poetic journey

  • Wandering In Oblivion

    Wandering In Oblivion

    Wandering in oblivion with the certitude in my heart that I belonged more to my afflictions than to my desires
    I knew not where my fate was taking me
    The only inevitability I couldn’t avoid was my obsessive quest to follow my dreams
    My fantastic world was all I demanded so impulsively
    And that everlasting flame was glowing intensely into my heart

    I felt betrayed by the time and all the previous events that dragged me into the pit of anguish
    It was real as much as I was breathing, and I couldn’t prevent being overwhelmed
    A huge imaginary mountain was on my chest, for I didn’t realise I had brought such huge exhaustion over and over again for a considerable time, too many times
    Lost and deluded, I chose seclusion as a way to bear that overflowing burden

    So far I wandered that I got lost in mazes and forests, for I was seeking pursuits and chances
    Even though I knew there was no compass guiding me in the infinite darkness of the nights I spent in dizziness and confusion
    Bitter was the dismay that distressed my heart in the loneliest journey of my existence
    Whenever I searched for comfort, I only found sparse, few and far-between hopes for a spark of delight

    The sunlight became bright and dark, creating shadows all over my path, while the moon advanced with pride as the queen of the long nights when my slumber was trembling with fear of the unknown. At last, I could hear the silence whispering presages and tales. Hence, there I was, lonely in my frailty and chaos, never ready for new adventures whilst wandering in oblivion and suspense. I had forgotten all my bygone remembrances as well as my name and my most cherished dreams.

    As long as the moon shone alongside the stars, I could make wishes that shattered at the mountain’s peak. But all fell silent, and I remained in my castle, admiring the splendid panorama before me.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Under Dreams And Enchantments

    Under Dreams And Enchantments

    Under spells and enchantments
    In nightmares I lived my nighttimes
    Surrounded by withered roses
    Dreaming of castles in the aether

    I wandered endlessly in the forest of the realm of oddities and wonders
    Wishing to find the secrets of wisdom and foolishness
    Although I knew that there was no certainty in this perilous path
    Being my fate an ocean of obscure surprises

    Invisible shadows whispered my name and announced my future ventures
    Beautiful ravens followed me like faithful and devoted companions
    And beyond my imagination, that fantastical world manifested in all its frightful marvels

    Under spells and enchantments
    I knew not who I really was
    Surrounded by stone flowers and magic lanterns
    Dreaming of flying dragons beneath the purple moonlight

    Delighted by the company of ancient books and candles
    I embarked on my own journey of knowledge and nonsense
    For I felt a creature of the infinite night
    Devil-may-care, I walked through forsaken aisles in decadent castles

    I felt a tiny speck in an endless infinity
    While admiring the magnificent landscapes the night was offering me
    Beneath a night sky adorned with stars and clouds
    Mesmerised by magic mirrors and crimson roses

    I couldn’t have imagined that I was able to transcend the reality that had limited my fantasy for so long
    But there I was
    Me and my enchanted dreams
    At last
    Under spells and enchantments
    In my own realm of fantasy
    A deliberate victim of my own illusions

    Previously, I had lingered endlessly in the grey zone of hopes and sorrows
    However, I decided to embrace a new transformation
    Detaching from all my previous versions of myself
    Nevermore watching back

    Forever longing for marvellous castles floating in the air in my garden of crimson roses and arcane trees
    Faraway from the abyss of nothingness
    Evermore under spells and enchantments.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • 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

  • The Tower Of Whispers

    The Tower Of Whispers

    The tower of whispers is my longed-for and, at the same time, rejected place. It is where I felt at home but also strange, where, at times, states of euphoria and joy were constrained by sadness and deep melancholy mixed with grief.

    In the distance, I heard the chiming of faraway churches and the birds chirping around me. Yet I was trapped in this tower of desires and grudges, hopes and disappointments, expectations but also the deepest anguishes, and memories—a tower full of memories, sweet yet mournful.

    I shuddered between amazement and dream, my anxieties, my fears were wrapped around me and almost forming bonds, invisible chains that held me still and at the same time in awe because of a situation of stability where joy and pain mixed into a single essence.

    The echo of various voices thundered in my head, in this dark tower of whispers. It seemed that time had stopped when I realised I could no longer see my reflection in any mirror because I no longer had an image. I had lost my original features and had transformed into something undefined.

    I had become a creature of a thousand personalities and moods, and I had fallen into a vortex of shadows and decay from which, no matter how much I tried to escape, I could not free myself. It was these shadows that seemed to reflect my thoughts and my anguish.

    My heart did not know passion. My sleep was… disturbed by monstrous creatures… that… afflicted pains to my heart and body… every time… I clung… to a desire for joy and peace… and hope.

    And so the rest of eternity unfolded before me as if I were a passive spectator with eyes without tears, but with a heart full of anguish, feelings, sadness, and regrets.
    Elisabetta

  • Infinite Stairs Of Waiting

    Infinite Stairs Of Waiting

    Infinite stairs of waiting
    The more I wait, the more I feel trapped in the dungeon of anguish.
    The more I climbed the stairs, the more I tried to ascend,
    the more it seemed I was descending downward with no result.
    All of this made me frustrated
    because I could not reach my goal.

    In my stillness I found myself,
    But at the same time, I lost a part of me.
    It was as if everything I had learned
    I had lost and forgotten,
    and everything I did not know
    I had unconsciously acquired.

    Confused and bewildered in a place of nowhere
    I strived to believe in my dreams but all I could do was fall from the stairs

    It was a game of illusion and reality.
    I had ceased to discern what seemed deception from what was truth.
    Both had blended together.
    It was as if there were no longer any meaning,
    and no longer any need to possess the domain of wisdom and knowledge.
    Everything had shattered into the abyss of ignorance and madness.

    And I proceeded on a thin thread between creation and destruction.
    My perplexities and hopes echoed as if they resounded through enigmatic structures, without meaning and expectations.

    Spirits that I could not discern, that I could not distinguish, whispered to me encouragements to pursue. But every time I fell and plunged into another flight of stairs, they laughed, almost as if to make fun of me — and to mock my inexperience and incompetence.

    In solitude I found myself lost, and there I languished like a creature from other worlds, indulging in my languor and melancholy; I was certain that I was towards myself and my image no longer had reflections in any mirror. The staircase was truly infinite like a steep ascent without end; there was neither a beginning nor an end, everything was an infinite perpetuity of distress and anguish.

    Infinite stairs of waiting were my dwelling for eternity, and there I had to… to… I didn’t know anymore.
    Elisabetta

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