Sinking underneath the ocean floor
With a painful grief like chains of sorrow
Feeling disoriented and lost
Like the death had reached for my heart with its numbing breath
While I was letting the water and earth take advantage of my body
I felt dark shadows and gods from the underworld touch my soul
They imprinted their fire branding upon my hand of clay
The path was established for eternity
And I awakened as one of their kin, reborn in shadow.
Elisabetta
The abyss of nothingness swallowed all my fractured desires
The fear that gripped my heart and that sense of calm, of stability that took hold of my life made me a helpless and insignificant creature, invisible to mortals, yet at the same time the target of their cruelties.
How much I wished to be different, to be accepted, and to be treated with great respect for who I truly was. But in truth, my entire life was a series of piercing endurance of inhuman suffering, humiliations, cruelties against me, deceit, mockery, traps, attempts to undermine my being, violence, and all the most barbaric and terrifying acts against my soul and myself.
My life had not been a normal existence—one that no one could have understood. My experience was not a common one. I had lived through a time when my dream had encapsulated me in an ideal, evanescent, and ethereal reality. No one could see me, especially during that period of apparent death. Yes, because for ten long years I had not lived—I had fallen into a deep and fatal dream, isolated from everything and everyone. I had built my own kingdom of dreams and illusions, into which, day by day, I entrusted my very self.
All the hourglasses in my dwelling had come to a halt, and the flow of time had lost all meaning. The disconnection from the truth that surrounded me had become both a tendency and a habit—one that turned into law. Indeed, I had become like a crystal frozen in time, like a statue untouched by its passing. I carried within me that immaterial sense of my heart, trapped in a confining aura.
I no longer cared what society thought, nor what people might perceive of me. And so it remains. For my rarity and my strangeness are imperceptible to any human heart. I was accused of things that never were, of things my heart could not even fathom. Everything had vanished like soap bubbles. Nothing remained—only bitter memories or sorrowful ones that dragged me down into the depths of an untouchable abyss.
Delicate and fragile as I was, I had lost the ability to love, to admire, and to obey mortals. I no longer saw them as similar to me, but rather, I perceived other beings—creatures who had no voice in the human condition—as kindred, as dear to me. And so it was that the abyss of nothingness possessed me, and it will always possess a part of my soul. For I belong to the emptiness and to the darkness.
Elisabetta
The kingdom of paradoxes and absurdities was the place where bullying and arrogance reigned supreme, sovereign over vulgarity and stupidity. They wallpapered the walls of every place that held court in such a realm.
Anything that could be imagined was both unreal and real at the same time. It could exist or not exist. Absurdity, however, was the master of the place. Thus, everything my logic deemed possible was tangible and predictable. In truth, it could neither take place nor be actualised in such sovereignty.
I cannot say that I was dreaming, nor can I say that I was awake. In a state of shock and surrender of my ego, I could no longer even discern whether I was daydreaming or hallucinating. All I could say was what my sensations and perceptions made me feel in every part of my soul and heart, in every part of my body.
Although I had firmly decided not to bend to the will of others, not to bow down or worship the conventions imposed on me persistently, I fell into a deadly trap—a kind of imprisonment, a state of captivity from which I could not free myself. Invisible chains that I felt and perceived in my body and heart held dominion over my life and my way of thinking.
My jewellery box had been plundered. All my secrets had been revealed by indiscreet tongues. And my protection had vanished. It was as if I had become a defenceless flower in the midst of a threatening desert.
I had to say goodbye to my version of myself, which was no longer alive. I had to say goodbye to all those visions that had deceived me falsely, when my naivety clouded my sight.
In the kingdom of paradoxes and absurdities, I had to succumb and suffer. I had nowhere else to go. And the more I tried to escape, the more it seemed that this strange land expanded beneath my feet, preventing me from crossing its high and menacing walls. And what could the sky do but watch me, almost mocking me in an indifferent and cynical manner.
Elisabetta
The ninth seal
Because the hour was nine. Or almost.
Paris wept softly blue through cobblestones and gaslight.
A monster came,
not with claws nor teeth,
But with wheels,
A chained demon in place of horses,
and the roar of hatred and madness disguised as an engine.
He saw me.
He chose me.
He had determined that I had to die by his shameful hand
The madman with the skull face,
The carriage forged in a nightmare,
drunk on fury,
under a wicked spell,
his infernal claws trembling not from fear —
But from the thrill of ending me.
And I,
Just a girl in a pale embroidered dress,
Crowned with strands of gold and unarmed,
But not unguarded.
For something stopped him.
Something unseen.
A force older than rot,
stronger than rage,
woven from secret whispers and gold light
spilt from my angelic protector gaze.
The wheels screamed.
The demons reared.
And time stopped to exist
As the carriage froze inches from my heart.
Behind me,
two hags —
with teeth like monuments and gums raw as hunger,
bald as ancient ruins,
laughed as if grace were weakness
and survival, shame.
Their laughter didn’t touch me.
I walked on,
not broken.
Not bowed.
My feet were flame and precious gemstones.
I passed through death
I passed through judgment
as one who had died before —
and been reborn
With mirrors behind her eyes
and dustless bones.
No prayer was spoken.
No sword was drawn.
But a pact was sealed in starlight and crystal blaze.
And so I say:
Nine are the circles, nine the keys.
I cloak myself in stone and destiny.
He who looks sees nothing, he who listens hears no sound,
But I stand guarded, armed with beauty,
And no evil enters where nine times I have said yes.
Elisabetta
Somewhere in my dreams, random thoughts enveloped my mind, and the bitter memories of what I have lost—of my buried treasures—saddened my heart.
It was as if I had surrendered myself to my own steps, walking down an avenue lined with dead trees, and with closed eyes I had defied the wind, which whispered to me words and secrets I no longer remember.
Weighted down by my anguish, I could not see a glimmer of light, of hope, that might guide me in a clear and lucid direction. All I could find was only chaos and fear—a dread that tormented me, the fear of never being able to grasp my dreams, of never being able to enclose them within the cage of my heart.
As much as I longed to cling to life, to my plans and dreams, their manifestations fell into the abyss of emptiness—an abyss that sought to swallow me into its chasm.
And I remembered all the principles that had been taught to me, shaped like a golden cage in which I was made to live my entire life—bound by rigid conventions, dark as chains coiled around my ankles and wrists, suffocating me like sly ivy twisting about my neck, its soft and slender leaves wrapping my face in a silent, silken strangle.
No, absolutely not. Stupidity has never belonged to me, nor hypocrisy, nor superficiality. And yet, I have always stood beyond an invisible wall—between myself and other mortals, who have always found me unusual, strange, even impossible to define within their social and mental structures.
Excessively extreme in my obsessions, in my feelings, in my passions and in my visions. I have always been—and still am—a visionary, a dreamer at the mercy of events that have never truly belonged to me, for even now I find their traces in the vault of my past, like fragments of memories scattered across the sky above my head.
Somewhere in my dreams, I’ve got lost in the labyrinth of reveries, trying to find myself—but in vain, for, in truth, I have never known myself, and I have never found who I truly am. I have always lived with the illusion of knowing, the illusion that others spoke the truth to me—as if their words were pearls of wisdom, as if they could guide me.
But in the end, what I found was only an illusion. Only betrayal. My heart has been permanently defiled by the torments of mortals and by the shadowy mirages that have always hindered my path.
Elisabetta
The magic beneath her smile
In a hush of varnished sight
Her gaze held mine
She was not senseless
She was enigmatic
A timeless masterpiece
An eternal and sublime beauty
As if she knew everything about me
And all that I hadn’t yet dared to live
Seventeen-seventeen was the arcane message
She whispered to me in the gallery aura
Like a cypher and a vow
A painting is much more than a mirror
It is the reflection of a soul into a thin surface of eternity
The time became nineteen-nineteen
Like wings folding back into the surface of my body
An unlived existence was rising up from between my heart
And it was not a fairytale or a legend
But a secret signal and a door to another world
Surreal fantasies became my realm
And there I lingered silent and astonished
Immobile like a sphinx with staring eyes
Futile as I felt like the moments of bliss I lived in that magic kingdom of beauty and eternity
An exquisite world where my heart beat again joyfully
Vanity and ephemeral dreams took me to mysterious places
Where I discovered new oddities and ancient secrets
I wouldn’t be able to understand which spell had been cast on me
I only knew I couldn’t resist the captivating labyrinth of arts
The magic beneath her smile concealed arcane mysteries
It wasn’t a prosaic artwork but a divine splendour
Dressed in centuries of varnish
Hid behind a shining crystal
Surrounded by fragments of timeless magnificence.
Elisabetta
Gilded illusions visited my dreams
In the eternal night that enveloped me like a diaphanous veil
I lingered far from every mortal sight
In my dwelling made of stars and dreams
The moon was bleeding silver onto withered blossoms
And I was a phantom wandering through chambers carved from bone
Among candles that wept in crystal flocks
While silence deepened in this dark dungeon of memories
Eerie whispers of the dead rose from broken mirrors
From each cracked and gloomy surface emerged a spirit of the past
Their hearts were cold and hollow for their ancient dismay
And their anguish echoed until the stars of the night firmament
Whenever I aimed to reach for the stars
They disappeared into the emptiness
Leaving me alone in my despair and decay
While the striking of time split the silence like a blade
No hesitation could help me to reacquire my wisdom
I knew that I had lost my freedom to embrace a life of madness and turmoil
Nothing could have altered this realm of death and decadence
Every divine bliss was destroyed by my fate
I belonged to the realm of dust and decay
I was reduced to following the darkness
The more I wept, the tighter drew the chains of my bondage
All my gilded illusions faded away in the void
Surrounded by the hollowness of dilapidated sarcophagi
I heard lullabies of sorrow that hovered like ghouls
Shadows long departed from the realm of life
They waited to converge on the abyss of the underworld
My chains transformed into silver and gold serpents
They became my guardians in this surreal world ruled by illusion and deception
Crowded by hissing ghosts and perpetual twilight
And in this sublime dejection, I found my refuge.
Elisabetta
Sadness and longings waited for me to return to my nocturnal slumber. Whenever I fell into Morpheus’s embrace, surrounded by shadows and silence, I discovered a new realm of deception and darkness.
Fear and doubts chained me to an existence of emptiness. Time devoured my hopes, and all my delights were destroyed by the storm of oblivion.
I wandered endlessly through the forest of illusions but could not grasp their ephemeral beauty.
Each dream I dared to explore turned into ashes and I had become a captive of my own desires, shrouded in the velvet of sorrow and despair. I fled from humankind, seeking solace in solitude. But serenity became a minacious ghoul feeding upon my thoughts.
My sorrow had become too heavy to behold, and I grew exhausted. I was aware that I couldn’t find any tranquillity inside myself. Throughout my miserable existence, I had been drawn to torches whose fire had burned and bruised me.
Sadness and longings were devouring my bleeding heart like famished monsters. I fell lifeless on the cold soil in the middle of the wilderness. I couldn’t find any will to live and I no longer knew what I was.
I lay among the withered roots of dead trees, cradled by a ground that knew my distress too well. The moon scrutinised me with distant apathy, an insensitive witness to my decadence. Not a single echo resounded my name, not even the wind dared unsettle my quiescence.
I was no longer a real creature or a soul but a doomed shadow. A forgotten rhyme in a poem never uttered. I surrendered to the sleep where no dream could deceive me, and no memory could stab me again.
My heart was sealed in the hush of eternity. Sadness and longings no longer belonged to me. I was finally free from all anguish, and I could hover like a shadow in the night, surrounded by bleeding roses and dark clouds.
Elisabetta
Under the lights of dying flames
A dreaming image of myself appeared to me
It occurred in the chamber dimly lit
While outside, the wind kept knocking on the window
My secrets became my blames
And I had to endure so much distress it couldn’t be kept inside the oceans
As far as I could ever imagine, my existence was bound to the fate of my dreams
Each instant resembled a drop of poison tainting my heart
I remained asleep while the candles wept their wax onto the silver
And I was mourning the truth I couldn’t confess
Surrounded by shadows moving gracefully like ethereal skeletons
Turning me into a silhouette of grief and disdain
I couldn’t understand if I were dead or alive
I couldn’t even perceive my body anymore
All I could sense was my frailty facing the abyss of despair
No presence, no voice, came to ease my sorrow
The squalid solitude paralysed me to my deathbed
I became intoxicated with the scent of incense and decay
Conscious in my unconsciousness that I had no hope or salvation
Silence crowned my invisible haven, similar to a vestige nailed to the walls of my mind
I wandered incessantly through my thoughts like a ghost in a cathedral
Each memory of mine was a hollow and deformed ghoul
Dripping like wax from a long-forgotten candle
I couldn’t escape from my nightmare because there was no awakening reserved for me
I was doomed to the segregation of dimness
The image of myself faded into smoke
I vanished in the emptiness like smoke upon a mirror
Under the stare of my candelabra with their dying flames
No traces of me could have been found
No voice of mine was carved on the walls of eternity
Under the lights of dying flames, I became a shadow not even the moon could claim as its own.
Elisabetta
In my fainted dreams made of smoke and spells, I saw my image reflected in the mirror of death. It seemed as if I were a dead shadow made of illusions. My slumber bound me to chains of darkness, and I couldn’t escape from my dungeon of despair.
In my non-existence, the quietness numbed me with a spell of sorrow. I was born to die alone, in scorn and desolation. My residence was made of teardrops and blood. I wished I could have kept my dreams in my treasure chest, but every time I tried, they would vanish.
Hence, I began to pretend that I didn’t need to desire or dream. I could have achieved everything I wanted if only my fate could allow me to do it. Nevertheless, solace and bliss were forbidden castles to my decrepit presence, and I could only find myself in an endless requiem.
Lies were birds of freedom for my heart, and I slumbered as a way of searching for myself. Indeed, I received an invitation from the realm of nothingness, under whose influence my main achievement was only destruction and decay. I was becoming a candle castle collapsing under the tension of an impetuous and merciless wind.
My past memories were little daggers puncturing my heart incessantly without any compassion. Maybe it was all an endless nightmare conspiring against me but the vivid remembrances were slowly annihilating me each instant of my non-life.
In my fainted dreams, I lived in grief surrounded by the shadows of my past self. I was not afraid to suffer and mourn days and nights. Time didn’t matter anymore because there was no metamorphosis in me. I perpetually wept like a statue in a cemetery.
Death and nightmares were all that remained as gifts of the underworld. I surrendered to a quiet acceptance of my irreversible demise. I ceased to dream, embracing my everlasting lamentation. I was fading like incense through a sinister wind.
Elisabetta
© Esther Racah 2025. All rights reserved.