Tag: poetry about dreams

  • A Dismal Obscurity

    A Dismal Obscurity

    A dismal obscurity silently descended over the nighttime in the garden of secret and forbidden desires. Once again, the storm had fulfilled its promise to erase ancient memories and delusional hopes from the realm of fantasies and chimaeras. The nights followed each other like a sequence of fables without any beginning or end. All the flowers withdrew from the tempest’s thunder, leaving soaked soil filled with decay and fragments of burning flames. The bitterness of the magic potions that I had to swallow in my frantic existence turned my heart into a heavy stone to carry through nights of solitude and restlessness. Flares of anguish burst in the nighttime while the stars watched me closely like a bizarre creature, who was unworthy of inhabiting that enchanted place filled with wild eccentricities. The freezing wind was so fiercely cold and violent that I could not remain standing for even a moment, reminding me of my fragility and transience. The more unbearable truths demanded to be revealed the more I shrank from discovering them in the great mirror of dilemmas. No matter how much I wanted to cast off all those painful and demoralising memories, they appeared as menacing shadows wherever I went. A dismal obscurity had cast a spell all over the night and no portal could have conducted me to other surroundings since my fate had decreed that I could never depart from the realm of ill-omened nightmares and indulgent sufferings. The art of suffering had become my delight during those harrowing nights of burning tears. The stupor had not even allowed me a moment to relinquish my role as a dreamer of lost, fragmented dreams. The eternal darkness could have been magnificent each instant that a dismal obscurity had claimed my heart solely for the mere purpose of making me feel in each part of my body the misery of the loss of all my dreams while the stars and the moon mocked me with their looks of contempt.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • The Wandering Of The Waves

    The Wandering Of The Waves

    The wandering of the waves and the sound of sighs echoing softly through the forest of lost dreams, reminded me of the fleeting nature of my state—lost in labyrinths of desire and anguish. I could not tell whether I was dreaming or awake, given that reality for me had come to consist of fantastic visions and peculiar dreams. And it was as if the past had poured into the present—which, however, was aimed at the future—and this chaos of future expectations and vague memories of the past never abated as the nights went by. I was confused and lost, yet I did not lose heart at all; on the contrary, I chose to seek out arcane symbols and enchanted grimoires to discover something about myself, given that I could not remember who or what I was. Scarlet flowers caught my eye while I was utterly exhausted from my search in the void, and their petals brought me comfort during the long winter nights when the sense of grief never left my side. Long and sombre were the moments when bitter memories carved symbols of pain and anguish into my heart, and I stood there frozen, as if the night’s chill had stripped away my ability to react and move forward on my path of deranged restlessness. And dreams turned into nightmares that tore away every desire for delights and bliss. The ocean in the distance seemed like a safe haven for my soul, yet its vast immensity in the darkness of night unsettled me, seeming to transform into an abyss of obliteration. And so it was that I lost my battle against a part of myself that wanted to forget all the bitterness of the memories vehemently trying to suck me into their vortex of deep sadness. The bells of the ancient abandoned cemetery rang a funeral fanfare for all those dreams of mine that had been carried away by the sudden storm that had taken possession of my kingdom of forbidden and impervious dreams. Even the clouds had grown sorrowful and voiced their dissent with an incessant rain that washed away every fragment of hope I had kept in a crystal box. I felt dazed and intoxicated by the chaotic confusion of that pandemonium. In the end, I had lost everything I had guarded with such devotion, and even my name had been erased from the entire realm—as if I had never existed. The wandering of the waves no longer soothed me since the night of the loss of my annihilated dreams, which turned to dust and ashes. Dismay found its perpetual abode in my heart and never left, and I embraced a dismal and bleak fate in an absolute silence.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • A Dreamy Nighttime

    A Dreamy Nighttime

    A dreamy nighttime resurfaced in my mind as if I were living in that very moment that didn’t last as long as I wished it would. As usual, my flowing dark gown was agitated by the freezing wind while a large white wolf sat next to a black raven perched on the stone pillar with me. From my high stone balcony, I could gaze at a dragon flying in the distant sky, with an embellished archway overlooking a marvellous landscape of a misty valley, dramatic waterfalls, and a sprawling castle complex connected by stone bridges. That was definitely a dreamy nighttime to remember by the light of a warm candlelight, a glowing lantern, and the unperturbed silver light of the moon. My lovely companions could sense all the bitter grief and electrifying fears hidden in my heart no matter how much I claimed that nothing could disturb me. I often asked them about the meaning of existence and the reason why dreams were dissolved by the cynicism and indifference of humankind. Lost in the labyrinth of my thoughts, I let myself be captivated by the enchantment of that realm of beauty and magic, in the hope that I would distract my heart from the anguish that held it entangled in its thorny tendrils. In truth, I was fleeing from myself and from the darkness of the abyss of nightmares that haunted my fitful slumber. Nonetheless, a dreamy nighttime had the power to transform me into a creature of the silent night, inducing me to live a life of starlight and mysticism. In loneliness, I was no longer, absolutely I felt the protection of the fantastic inhabitants of that kingdom of dreamy nighttime. So bright were the luminaries that I felt finally welcomed and included for the very first time in my peculiar reality filled with oddities and delusions. At last, I was allowed to be made of dreams and nightmares, far away from the conventional impediments of humanity. Far away I fled astray, into the endless darkness, where splendid dreams and lugubrious nightmares merged beneath the silver gaze of the moon.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • The Spell In The Mirror

    The Spell In The Mirror

    The spell in the mirror made me step further back into the dark corners of my dilapidated dwelling, where echoes of my heart’s emptiness reverberated. No matter how much I tried to flee my bitter memories, I could find no refuge in that dwelling that should have protected me; instead, I fled into the unknown of the ancient oak forest—a dark place, yet more reassuring than other places that were too bitter for my heart. The night never left my side as I kept wandering aimlessly without a particular intention or destination. I felt the gelid blizzard surrounding me without hesitation, forcing me to find my haven inside a mysterious cave, where a lantern illuminated my surroundings. Extravagant visions kept me from falling into a deep sleep, like bewitching chimaeras. I could not avoid passing through a magical portal unknown to me and crossing the threshold into a wondrous world that filled me with awe and stupor. It was as if a burning desire overwhelmed my senses and heart, and all my wishes had transformed into magnificent flowers, whose exquisite perfume extended throughout that enchanted realm. The sun appeared in the middle of the night as to greet the stars hiding behind gloomy clouds, and the twilight was altered by the constant sunshine, making the realm glimmer like a treasure chest filled with splendid gems. The spell in the mirror had invited me to a world, which belonged only to me and was invisible to humankind. I was surprised by the peculiar beauty of that realm, hidden behind that magic mirror adorned with enchantments. I suddenly perceived that the surroundings were made of luxury furniture, and I gave a curious glance at a dark ornate desk holding a glass perfume bottle, beautiful roses, the ornate mirror and an armillary sphere, which resembled a model of celestial spheres. A black cat was resting on a stack of books by the window, and gazing out at the skyline, it whispered to me some arcane poetry. Meanwhile, I was admiring a large arched window looking out over a gothic city with spires and towers beneath the gaze of a theatrical sunset and a glowing moon. Certainly, I could not resist looking at some antique books where I did find the story of my life together with all the descriptions of my dreams and my trepidations; just like my predefined fate wanted to let me know that there was no possibility of changing the events that would have happened in the future. My very name was engraved on the richly adorned cover of every volume, which resembled a bewitched grimoire. The feline companion approached me as if I were a dear friend from a past life. An absolute silence descended all over the gloomy gothic chamber and I felt more than ever that I had become just one of the several evanescent chimaeras visiting my own dreams. The spell in the mirror was but a chaotic enigma in the infinite abyss of darkness and dreams.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • The Magic Foggy Night

    The Magic Foggy Night

    The magic foggy night became my night of dreams and fantastical visions. A bright, cloudy full moon stirred delightful emotions in my heart, cherishing a marvellous melancholy and sordid dismay. My attention was astonished by the sight of a stack of weathered antique books illuminated by a flamboyant candle beside a shining brass armillary sphere. The magic foggy night didn’t reveal its secrets, so I tried to talk to an esoteric book with celestial motifs, asking questions about that mysterious wisdom I was not supposed to know. As I proceeded in my questionable quest, I caught sight of a glowing glass lantern, while a solitary black raven perched on the weathered stone balcony railing amid climbing ivy. In solitude, I was resolute enough to disclose every aspect of my bizarre fate, which never failed to surprise me. As long as the magic foggy night made my imagination more unpredictable and hectic, it caused me to lose my ability to be comforted by my slumbering rest. Many doubts crossed my mind uncomfortably as I gasped uneasily whenever I realised that all I was glimpsing was a pristine daydream. It seemed that beauty was an ephemeral manifestation of my evanescent dreams. For too long I let my expectations fall into the abyss of decay, and in vain I waited for an impetuous storm to invite me into another realm. Nevertheless, the blemishes in my heart became engraved truths, which were too harsh to endure as I became more aware of the desolation of my existence. The magic foggy night had made me acquainted with nocturnal creatures and forbidden knowledge at the sight of splendour and magnificence. Alas, so abruptly time had passed, and oblivion claimed all those treasures, which hitherto had been my cherished belongings. Therefore, my flamboyant candle with the shining brass armillary sphere and weathered antique occult books together with the glowing glass lantern faded away into the void of the gloomy night. The solitary black raven flew high up into the sky until it lay beside the glistering stars. All that remained to be seen was the withered ivy and some relics of my whispers of despair. The magic foggy night had been just an illusion; a dream that didn’t accompany me for as long as I wished. The night’s deception was but an evanescence, vanishing into the darkness and leaving behind nothing but the bitter remembrance of a resplendence that had never truly been mine.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • In The Realm Of Disintegrated Dreams

    In The Realm Of Disintegrated Dreams

    In the realm of disintegrated dreams, the night was endless and the darkness ruled over every invisible creature. Several peals of thunder manifested their frenzy in a dance of light and shadow, while I waited for my dreams to become true in the most foolish manner, as if time didn’t belong to me anymore. Therefore, I didn’t realise that my fantasies weren’t within reach, but just echoes in the tumultuous wind like illusory soap bubbles. I had waited for nothing to change because torpor and doldrums were woven into the fabric of my fragile destiny. And so the sun revealed its radiant complexion trying to contrast the tenebrous shine of the moon, which was accompanied by a gathering of glistening stars. Withered roses blossomed in the garden of obliteration alluring the night with their scent of decay and unpredictability. While I searched for bat flowers blooming beneath the silver moonlight, the night granted me obliviousness, and the ravines offered me refuge. No earthborn heart would have been so gracious and compassionate as to provide an award or a reward. Every attempt of mine was left behind a frozen portal, and loneliness put a gloomy castle together exclusively for me to dwell in. Even the most impetuous tempests had more regard for me than humankind, whose only aim was to scatter brambles and thorns wherever I went along my arduous path. In the realm of disintegrated dreams, I found my only consolation in the untamed storms, hollow trees and fantastic creatures of the forest. Nothing else really mattered any longer besides my peculiar world of curiosities. Exhausted as I was, I fell into a deep slumber embraced by nightmares and mysterious incubuses. Stardust burst forth from my shattered dreams, igniting the cosmos with its fiery remnants. The realm of disintegrated dreams had dissolved into the infinite abyss of the universe.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Extravagant Dreams

    Extravagant Dreams

    Extravagant dreams appeared like magnificent paintings of different natures, making me feel all those emotions I never felt in real life. I wondered what it would be possible to achieve in my marvellous fantasies. Nevertheless, I never realised in my entire existence what my fate wanted me to understand through prophecies and nightmares.

    The antique clock struck each hour, while its pendulum swung relentlessly from side to side, echoing the inexorable passage of time, and inducing me to find my magic manuscript of phantasmagorias and peculiarities. In truth, I had the intention to cast a spell over the moon and the stars. My vanity allowed me to relinquish all control over my heart and I was finally able to see the chaos and power of my imagination.

    Extravagant dreams became my secret treasures in the lonely nights whenever the clouds covered all the luminaries, hiding the moon in their soft gloominess. Every time I awakened in the middle of the night only to realise that there was no possibility to question the stars about my shadows and destiny. Since bedlam ruled my life, my heart knew no certitudes but an exigent desire to look at the swarthy face of the moon.

    Majestic ravens were my loyal witnesses to my endless thirst for vengeance. Indeed, I so often dreamed of seeing justice appear in the shape of frightening ghouls as a gift to those entities that had mistreated me so badly. My awkward and extravagant dreams were constantly my guides, willing to soothe all my resentments and grief, which were huge burdens inside my heart like inextinguishable flames.

    Silence didn’t succeed in pacifying all my trepidations, in fact, I was by then at the mercy of the tumultuous winds of an approaching storm. I couldn’t even listen properly to the echoes of my thoughts lingering in the emptiness of the night like withered flowers. Extravagant dreams were no longer my shadows following me everywhere, instead, there was only a bare landscape with no trees, just a few meadows and the dust of my memories which were not there with me anymore.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Magic Sunsets

    Magic Sunsets

    Magic sunsets manifested in the abyss of torpor and oblivion
    While the ocean breeze stroked my hair in the unconsciousness of my slumber
    Although I had relinquished the kingdom of shallowness and impermanence
    I never settled for an adventure bound to rational manuscripts and shoddy fantasy

    I always dreamed of magic sunsets and enchanted castles
    Mostly when the ancient clock of my secret mansion ticked each second of my life
    It pressured me to advance and grab as much knowledge as I could
    But each time I drank from the goblet of wisdom
    Every memory would vanish away like tiny sand grains in the wind

    In vain I cried, and as desperate as I was, I evoked the spirits of that magical realm of sugary illusions and flaming roses
    The magnificent sunlight greeted me each day without ceremonies
    But only making my roses bloom like shimmering gems in every shade of orange and red

    Beneath sparkling magic sunsets, each lantern glimmered to chaperone me to the precious and beloved castle that was in front of me exactly as I had imagined it
    The aura was full of exquisite flower scents whose petals were falling all over me like confetti raindrops
    Orange quartz, citrine and carnelian adorned my hair under the shape of a fabulous crown, and tangerine flowers adorned my dress

    I could intentionally realise that I was no longer dreaming, being part of a marvellous world where dreams always came true, and happiness was spilling all over the realm
    The enchantment of that fairy tale was so intense that I hadn’t even realised I was completely alone, save for the legendary creatures
    No doubt or fear could touch me now that I was the sovereign of my world of wonders and oddities

    Without ever tearing my gaze away from the beauty of those magical sunsets that had transported me into my world of imprudence and frenzy, I finally embraced my bizarre and mysterious fate with its myriad of surprises and eternal marvel.
    Elisabetta Esther

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