Absolute quietness numbed me into a slumber that made me regret all my desires and reminded me of my foolishness. I might have forgotten who I was because of a plethora of my dispositions inhabiting my soul.
I couldn’t clearly see what awaited me, since my fate was hidden beyond a gloomy swamp of illusions and deceptions. A forest of mangroves was discouraging me from advancing. Hence, I was retained by their leafy claws.
I couldn’t discern between imagination and reality anymore, so profuse were the hallucinations I was enthralled by. I felt no fear or panic, but I could hear a lullaby of hoaxes tearing my heart with their delicate hooks.
That hypnotic stillness was concealing my obliteration. A dreadful oblivion was awaiting me like adored prey. I had no choice but to become a tiny doll made of porcelain and withered flowers. And so I was cast away and I perished in dismay.
All my lost dreams and eagerly guarded treasures resurfaced in the marsh of desolation and delirium. I had reached the edges of the realm of death.
So forsaken was I in the chasms of my daydream that I had forgotten the presence of the stars on a majestic winter night. Truly, I had sought too long the sense of my existence, and I had never found it.
In my absolute quietness, I had found chaos and tragedy. There wasn’t even a fragment of hope that I would be redeemed by my destiny. I had been cast away by the luminaries that glimmered in all their magnificence.
The moon hid behind gloomy clouds so thick that it was impossible to ignore their yearning for spells and magical hexes. The sky’s immense shadows touched my swamp, melting in it like ethereal soap bubbles.
Elisabetta Esther
