Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: poetic melancholy

  • The Path Of Perdition And Chimaeras

    The Path Of Perdition And Chimaeras

    The path of perdition and chimaeras had become the centre of my past existence
    Having lost myself a million times and having found a new version of myself each time
    I was a creature of transformation and a cyclic universe
    So cast astray I was that I couldn’t recognise myself oftentimes
    It’s too difficult to define and confine ourselves in a label and a box
    Definitely, I never succeed in such a task differently from other mortals

    I was made of fractures and wholeness
    I was made of sadness and merriment
    I was made of splendour and decay
    I was made of beauty and darkness
    I was made of shells and the ocean
    I was made of the infinite and stars

    Nevertheless, I came to a point of no return
    Where I couldn’t go back or appear under the previous shape
    I had become a new creature belonging to the realm of transformation and death
    My pitiful soul was just a dead star that had fallen from the night sky

    I couldn’t recognise myself even if I did desire it so much
    All the mirrors in front of me seemed black as soon as I stared at their sleek surfaces
    Oh, the pathetic anguish I was feeling in my heart!
    Nothing could have alleviated it!
    A stone flower was inside myself
    While I’ve got lost in the labyrinth of thoughts and fears

    And now I was resting on my dried and pale tears made of dust
    Everything appeared so lousy and loud to my delicate eyes
    The world that the mortals had built was too much for me
    And I felt an evanescent feeling of despair and pain

    The path of perdition and chimaeras could have been the product of my imagination
    Or maybe it was just one of my several hallucinations that haunted my dreams
    I will never know it!
    Elisabetta

  • The Emptiness Within My Mind

    The Emptiness Within My Mind

    The emptiness within my mind
    Is death inside my heart,
    With no golden cage, no precious gems—
    just silence folding round itself,
    no escape, no hope,
    Only absence holding tight.

    Exhausted and devoid of feeling,
    I lay upon the cold earth,
    strewn with withered leaves,
    fallen flowers,
    and shards of abandoned dreams.

    Weeping,
    I heard the intense sound
    of my tears falling
    on leaves shriveled
    by the cold wind of night.

    Nothing remained
    around you,
    around me,
    But only the vague memory
    of those anguishes
    that oppressed me
    and never ceased
    to pursue me.

    I no longer held
    any desire to desire,
    nor to keep
    anything within my heart.

    My heart had ceased
    to be a chest
    of my wishes and whims.

    It was merely
    an empty chest,
    emptied by the fury
    and storms
    that swept over me
    In my wretched existence.

    Not even the stars
    sparkled in the sky
    above my dwelling.

    The heavens refused
    to shine for me.

    Yet they had forsaken me
    to my fate,
    where no hope remained,
    nor even a small flame
    to bring me back to life.

    Whispers and murmurs
    came to me
    In the form of a misty breeze,
    laden with elegies
    and funeral hymns.

    Despair and anguish
    were gifts bestowed upon me,
    like dazzling joys
    that in truth did not shine at all,
    But bound me fast
    In a realm of cruelty,
    wickedness,
    and mercilessness.

    Helpless and fragile,
    like the petals of a well-bloomed flower,
    I could not withstand
    such impetuousness and violence of events,
    so hostile to me—
    like endless storms at sea
    whose fury knows no end.

    The emptiness within my mind
    had become a spirit that subdued me,
    against which I could no longer resist.
    At last, I became part
    of the abyss of oblivion,
    And there I remained for eternity,
    wandering like a cloud
    In a stormy, winter night.
    Elisabetta

  • Nightmares And Visions

    Nightmares And Visions

    Nightmares and visions visited me in the middle of the night, when sleep abandoned me to an otherworldly realm never seen nor imagined.
    The fog had clouded every vision, and I could see nothing but the shadows of faint images—spirits moving around me.

    My light sleep was nothing but a portal to a world where torment awaited me, and my heart was torn apart, again and again, without mercy. My gentle expectations had dissolved into the dark horizon, and I could see them no more.

    Indeed, I had become a creature of darkness, devoid of ambitions and expectations, for in truth what was destined for me was absolute emptiness—the total absence of life, love, and joy.

    How could I have held even the smallest hope of escaping that realm of darkness and despair? I no longer knew what life was—full of light, full of love, of hopes and delights.

    Had I been able to foresee my terrifying fate, I might have fled—perhaps among the clouds or the stars—if they had taken me into their realm.

    I might have been melancholic, perhaps—I don’t know—because at that moment I refused to accept any kind of feeling that my heart wished to embrace within itself. It was as if my heart had been torn from my chest and replaced with thorns.

    Pierced and betrayed by that world full of conventions, hypocrisy, titles, and useless materialism, I fled far away but fell into the trap of the world I myself had created in my visions—and that is why nightmares and visions were my most faithful companions, without whom I could not have survived.

    I breathed my last breath and, sighing, surrendered to the cold, sharp, and cruel embrace of the otherworldly realm.
    Elisabetta

  • Quiet Mourning

    Quiet Mourning

    Quiet mourning
    Waiting for a sight
    In the silence of the night
    When I forget to be a mortal
    Renouncing every earthy property
    In my deep slumber of sorrow and despair
    Forgetfulness is welcome in my heart
    As long as I can breath

    Quiet mourning
    Like the one of a creature made of marble
    In the middle of the wilderness
    Abandoned to my fate
    As nobody would dare to pay attention
    As I become a wandering spirit of the night

    As I dream, everything is surreal
    And I own only my loneliness and misery
    Having burnt every desire and expectation of mine
    I get ready for my burial in the garden of disgrace

    Having lost so much
    Left with castles of sand and decay
    I left illusions to guide me into the realm of deception

    Wandering aimlessly
    I didn’t find myself
    I lost my heart being laid to rest in the graveyard of memories
    I was dead
    I had no desire to be among the mortals who betrayed and plundered me
    With their ugly depravity and hideous horribleness

    I deserted all of them
    I fled the world of banality and deceit
    Not interested anymore
    I aimed to new realms and wisdom

    Hovering among shadows and ghosts
    I embraced my quiet mourning
    My stillness that made of grief and distrust
    Conscious that everything was destined for an end

    Merit and prices were far away
    As I was cast astray by the brutal chance
    In the silent cemetery of lost hopes.
    Elisabetta

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