Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: poetic narrative

  • Unloved And Still Alive

    Unloved And Still Alive

    Unloved and still alive
    Burning inside like a bursting candle
    Shunned by the stars
    Forsaken by my own fate
    I wandered in my idyllic imagination
    Careless about the consequences of my quest
    So in silence I remained, keeping my stillness and avoiding any apprehension
    I had been cast away from the realm of certitude
    And I had embraced the illusory world of swoon
    Embracing the unknown was my main aim
    Since I lived with the constant suspense of the unpredictability of the events that would unfold before me

    I saw the traces of shame on the walls of a glorious temple
    Remembering that once upon a time, they were covered with the names of those who once enjoyed privileges and gifts
    Although I saw their shadows fading in the void, I knew that their presence was there
    Underneath the oblivious dusty tapestries and carpets, there were the spirits of disgrace
    How long could that secrecy have been hidden?
    It was a question resonating in my mind
    How could it even have been possible to leave such a precious wall so tainted and hideous?

    A crowd of paid names was pasted onto ephemeral history
    Then, years later, it was peeled away, leaving one of the grand palace walls flayed by adhesive and a code of silence
    Names faded away like ethereal legends erased by the wear and tear of time
    Not even the wear and tear of their fake smiles and affected bows could erase what was obvious even to the marvellous works of that now decayed temple
    I saw but I didn’t forget
    Unloved and still alive
    I was an accidental witness to dreadfulness and grotesqueness
    Everything seemed to be so unreal and absurd I couldn’t even admit it as a bare reality and an ugly truth

    The sky was cloudy and the rain fell all over the magical palace with its infernal caves
    The more I walked erratically, the more I felt like I had lost the old version of myself
    I had drunk the poison of my intuitions that were verified by a harsh reality
    I had become inebriated on a potion that had been offered to me just when I didn’t want it
    And although the ghastliness prevailed, so did I
    I cherished my essence of a drama queen and goddess of darkness
    Since I chose to belong to the unseen world of dark shadows and enigmatic secrets

    Although I was unloved by mortals, I was still alive in various shapes like an ethereal creature of an invisible kingdom
    I had recreated myself from dust and ashes
    While the time slipped away like sand in the wind
    For I became what I could never have imagined
    A lost butterfly in an abyss of turmoil and deceit, overflowing my imagination with illusory chimaeras
    I endured a world of wretchedness and cynicism, facing every horror wrought by mortals
    At the very end, there was never an end
    The decay of the perishable world never ceased, but it persisted inexorably
    And I stared at the stars as the only act of salvation for my lonely and broken heart.
    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 Doomed Spell

    The Doomed Spell

    The doomed spell of the underworld was cast on me
    While I was wandering in my silent ways on a summer night
    Resentment and fear were far from me but the danger of death was following me
    Like an ominous shadow behind me
    Ready to decide when my end was going to happen

    And suddenly, like a storm in a clear sky, horror manifested itself before me.
    And, to all my fears, a bewitched and gigantic carriage, guided by a demon who struck blows upon his demonic horse with sharp teeth and a spectral gaze,
    a carriage populated by spectres, spirits and skeletons, all assembled as in a gathering.

    My long dress became soaked with mud and earth as I crossed this road of disgrace and death.
    And behold, the spectral coachman with his evil gaze headed directly towards my person to put an end to my existence, unleashing all his strength and aggressiveness and violence against me, and I almost perished — death brushed me, if it hadn’t been for a miraculous touch that diverted my figure from such horror.

    Shaken and bewildered, I relived the miracle of life, of rebirth, and it was there, in that fleeting and transient instant, that I was born again, assuming a new identity, even if my appearance had not quite changed — but my heart had become of bronze, copper and silver.

    The moon shone high in the night of storm and serenity, and the echo of my horror and of my spasms of fear and distress spread through all the firmament, making the stars hear my tale of misery and miracle.

    The doomed spell ruled over my mad destiny and had crumbled like a kind of majestic castle.
    It is splendid, but within it, my gloomy, shadowy soul was falling to pieces.
    And, filled with sorrows more than joys, it was crumbling apart under the weight of life — and of that night of nightmares and atrocities.
    Elisabetta

  • Mirrors And Delusions

    Mirrors And Delusions

    Mirrors and delusions surrounded me as I wandered through a labyrinth carved from my own expectations. Each hidden niche kept a secret, and each silent sigh was a vow that dissolved in the emptiness. I strived to hold distant glimpses I could never keep, and the more I yearned, the taller the walls grew.

    Wildflowers whispered legends about betrayal and wickedness. Sadness teardrops fell over me like jet ink, leaving trails of darkness on my uncertain way. Clouds of gloom and sorrow met in the sky, feasting on the ephemeral sense of existence. My silence was my words. I had no needs or ambitions to fulfil any more because my ego was obliterated.

    Hence, it began my passage into the liminal state. My distorted reflection in the mirrors could have been the fruit of my hallucinations or the effective image of myself. Everything could have betrayed me, even myself. There was no longer a sun in the firmament of this realm of lugubrious descent. Where fallacy and degradation ruled.

    Polished crystals shone their glimmer, not to guide, but to deceive as each light was just a false oath, drawing me deeper into the hollow abyss of this maze of madness. Lonely I was never since shadows and ghosts accompanied me whenever I would wander. Their countenances were dreary and appalling.

    Mirrors and delusions hid my truth and plundered my heart of innocence and hope. They filled my route with deceit and cruel traps. I had become invisible and voiceless in their dungeon of decadence and death. I had to surrender to their power and supremacy. I wouldn’t consider myself a wisdom keeper since my insanity grew like a flower among tombstones.

    No more farewell to my dreams, for they no longer belonged to me, but to the nothingness that now bore my name.
    Elisabetta

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