Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: Psychological

  • The Kingdom Of Paradoxes And Absurdities

    The Kingdom Of Paradoxes And Absurdities

    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

  • A Doomed Paradox

    A Doomed Paradox

    A doomed paradox was my trap
    The more I escaped the tighter I was bound
    Each step forward pulled me back
    I tried to chase the wind but it eluded me
    Each decision became a chain wound tighter around me
    To escape meant to be trapped
    For each door opened, another one was shut behind me

    My liberty was slowly being killed by my fate
    The harder I fought against my destiny the worse it approached it
    To unlock the chains I had to stay chained
    I strived to reach for freedom, but it closed in as poisonous ivy wrapped around me
    I attempted to defy the tide, but each wave pushed me closer to the abyss
    I struggled against the void, but each part of me was swallowed by the silence of the vault

    The shadows crept closer to me with their sharp claws around me
    Their gloomy chill tightened around me like a funerary veil
    They led me deeper into a labyrinth of forsaken spirits
    My heart thudded in a deadly cadence as if its hollow pulse belonged to the underworld
    The cruel embrace of despair of the dead wraiths was pulling me underground
    I lost my hopes in reaching for the stars that faded away like faraway candles in a storm
    I had become a prisoner of the eternal night, chained by the very darkness I sought to escape

    There was no beginning or end in this ill-fated paradox
    This doomed paradox became my eternal dungeon
    My refuge had become my prison never to be left
    I lost my wisdom to merit my madness as a prize
    Time left me and every hope of mine was reduced to dust
    I was becoming decadent and dead like a withered flower left to dissolve
    And all I could see was an endless nothingness surrounded by a deafening silence.
    Elisabetta

  • The Shadows Of Affliction

    The Shadows Of Affliction

    The shadows of affliction hunted me in the night
    They awakened me in the middle of my slumber
    Like a fever that gripped my body with its sharp claws
    It always left me crying on my bed with a bleeding heart
    Submerged in my teardrops I kept my soul wide open
    As if I could get more dazed than the night before

    Echoes of my lost dreams resounded in my obscure chamber
    They made me feel like a withered flower with no hopes
    I was left, astray in the wasteland of silence
    As I was a forgotten spirit, I wandered among the ruins of my soul
    The abyss of void yelled my name to reclaim me as its beloved possession
    Because nothing more could have saved me

    If I could have erased all my distressing memories
    I would have lived a bearable existence in peace and calm
    Instead, I was doomed to eternal misery and the spasms of death
    I couldn’t find any key to the door that was keeping me locked in my struggle
    So many thoughts and fears were overcrowding my mind that I couldn’t tell
    I felt overwhelmed and dizzy as I was wandering in an endless maze without guides

    The shadows of affliction were cast over me like ominous ghosts
    I stood immobile since panic had grasped my heart
    The frosty breeze of the night froze my bones
    And every mirror I encountered never reflected my authentic image
    I didn’t remember my name anymore, and my purposes
    Climbing ivy curled like serpents, entwining me in veins of sorrow and silence

    From the instant I died, I was buried beneath layers of anguish as a captive of the underworld
    Chained to cry and despair amid the indifference of stars
    And the moonless night sky offered no comfort
    I had chosen to hide in the darkness and never reveal myself to the light
    With nothing left but a lifeless heart
    I had become one of the shadows of affliction.
    Elisabetta

  • The Spell Of The Magic Night

    The Spell Of The Magic Night

    The spell of the magic night bound me to a deadly respite
    A slumber of shadows too deep to escape
    Under the siege of absolute silence
    Dreams whispered legends of ashes and decay

    I was facing all my fears and my subconscious
    It was like opening an ancient chest that long-time remained closed
    Disclosing memories enveloped in dust and grief
    Each emotion was a fragile relic, and each fearful thought was an erratic rhyme

    The consequence of my own darkness dragged me deeper
    As my shadows manifested like abandoned ghosts
    And I became a captive of the stillness
    As I came to be aware that the price of awakening was far too high

    Immobile I remained on my fancy bed
    Expecting my frenzy to embody the shape of one of my visions
    I longed to become an illusion adrift in the aether
    Like divine smoke rising from sacred incense

    My heart was pounding from the sinister noises above me
    It felt as though I lay beneath demoniac clouds
    Where wicked souls wove silent conspiracies against me
    The void inside of my heart consumed me

    I surrendered to the phantoms of my anguishes
    They were no longer my tormentors but silent companions
    In the vastness of my hollow night, my thoughts dissolved like torn silk
    Each thread was lost to sight into the infinite darkness

    I finally ceased to search for who I was
    Since I became a part of that quietude I once feared
    I hovered through each memory of mine
    I had become a vibration surrounded by the velvet darkness

    All that surrounded me turned into a silent garden
    Where hushed sorrow bloomed with invisible petals
    And dreams fell like shadowed snowflakes
    On the altar of my fading spirit

    I wandered like a ghost trapped in a hall of mirrors
    Indeed, I had become a phantom of my own making
    And I eternally remained trapped in my dreams
    Under the spell of the magic night.
    Elisabetta

  • Avid Rage

    Avid Rage

    Avid rage ignited the fire like an everlasting flame,
    Old betrayals resurfaced like phantoms,
    Faces once familiar twisted into enemies,
    Every whispered word, a dagger in the heart,
    The weight of unfairness crushed the spirit.

    In the depths of the night, anger roared,
    A tempest unleashed within the soul,
    It surged like a tidal wave, relentless,
    Crashing against the shores of reason,
    Each throbbing was a reminder of wounds unhealed.

    In the quietness, rage painted the walls,
    Bright strokes of fury marked the silence,
    Every flicker of light became a reminder,
    Of the darkness that brewed in the shadows,
    A bluster of voices echoed in the mind.

    Beneath the skin, a wild creature lay waiting,
    Coiled tight, ready to strike,
    With every heartbeat, the tension mounted,
    Breath quickened, fueled by resentment,
    The soul was a battlefield of longing and despair.

    Each encounter felt like a betrayal,
    A trust broken, shards scattered on the cold soil,
    Hope faded beneath the weight of anger,
    As happiness turned to bitter silence,
    And compassion crumbled to dust in the storm.

    The world appeared in shades of crimson,
    Passions ignited with every injustice faced,
    The heart, a furnace, churned and boiled,
    Eager to destroy all that stood in its way,
    Devouring peace, leaving only ashes.

    Although amidst the chaos, a flicker of longing emerged,
    Suspicion whispered through the haze,
    What lay beneath the seething rage?
    A sorrow deep-rooted in longing and loss,
    The ache for harmony, the fear of sequestration.

    Even when the rage began to wane,
    Replaced by the weight of unspoken pain,
    Underrated fury danced on the edge of a garden of bleeding roses,
    Transforming every soft glow into violent flames,
    A reminder of everlasting anger.

    As dawn broke, the tempest flourished,
    Leaving behind silent destruction,
    An inextinguishable blaze burning the void,
    Rising from the ashes of that avid rage,
    And embracing the darkness that swallowed the storm.

    Avid rage lingered like a spectre in the emptiness,
    Its echoes never faded, never entirely dimmed,
    A reminder of the chasms every spirit could reach,
    And the infinite journey that awaited beyond the everlasting and eternal flames,
    Just in that garden of bleeding roses.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Watcher In The Void

    The Watcher In The Void

    The watcher in the void exists beyond the reach of darkness and light. A shadow crawls—no, creeps—through cracks unseen, where time crumbles and whispers dissolve into nothingness. A hollow and vast eye looms through the endless darkness, constant and unblinking. The pulse of something unknown shudders through the air, a rhythm that defies reason. Has it begun? Will it ever end? The gaze of the watcher in the void pierces through the walls of sanity, unravelling the fabric of reality with a slow, deliberate stare.

    Breath lingers, suspended between worlds that will never merge. The air itself quivers as the void inhales thoughts, exhaling fragments of something twisted and dark. The ground shifts, a subtle tremor beneath unseen steps. Silence hums with tension, and the watcher in the void lingers just beyond the edge of perception. It watches—always watching—staring indefinitely at the infinite abyss of the universe.

    The void is endless—there is no beginning or end—only the infinite eye of the watcher in the void, which never closes and never tyres. Memories scatter like dust, ephemeral and insubstantial, fading into oblivion. Time loops in strange patterns, distorted, lost in the eternal gaze of something ancient, something incomprehensible.

    Echoes drift through the silence, faint and distorted, as if carried from a distant, forgotten realm. The watcher in the void is there, always present, with tendrils of existence coiling through unseen spaces, tightening, constricting, and squeezing until only fragments remain. The eye never wavers, never falters, holding everything in a relentless stare that knows no mercy.

    A scream fades into nothingness, consumed by the void, looping back into itself. The watcher in the void remembers all—every thought, every moment—caught in the never-ending cycle of its gaze. The void is eternal, and the watcher endures, bound to the emptiness, forever seeing, forever waiting. Nothing and no one can escape this lethal and cruel stare, not even the stars.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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