Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: Reality

  • 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

  • Infinite Stairs Of Waiting

    Infinite Stairs Of Waiting

    Infinite stairs of waiting
    The more I wait, the more I feel trapped in the dungeon of anguish.
    The more I climbed the stairs, the more I tried to ascend,
    the more it seemed I was descending downward with no result.
    All of this made me frustrated
    because I could not reach my goal.

    In my stillness I found myself,
    But at the same time, I lost a part of me.
    It was as if everything I had learned
    I had lost and forgotten,
    and everything I did not know
    I had unconsciously acquired.

    Confused and bewildered in a place of nowhere
    I strived to believe in my dreams but all I could do was fall from the stairs

    It was a game of illusion and reality.
    I had ceased to discern what seemed deception from what was truth.
    Both had blended together.
    It was as if there were no longer any meaning,
    and no longer any need to possess the domain of wisdom and knowledge.
    Everything had shattered into the abyss of ignorance and madness.

    And I proceeded on a thin thread between creation and destruction.
    My perplexities and hopes echoed as if they resounded through enigmatic structures, without meaning and expectations.

    Spirits that I could not discern, that I could not distinguish, whispered to me encouragements to pursue. But every time I fell and plunged into another flight of stairs, they laughed, almost as if to make fun of me — and to mock my inexperience and incompetence.

    In solitude I found myself lost, and there I languished like a creature from other worlds, indulging in my languor and melancholy; I was certain that I was towards myself and my image no longer had reflections in any mirror. The staircase was truly infinite like a steep ascent without end; there was neither a beginning nor an end, everything was an infinite perpetuity of distress and anguish.

    Infinite stairs of waiting were my dwelling for eternity, and there I had to… to… I didn’t know anymore.
    Elisabetta

  • The Realm Of Crimson Roses

    The Realm Of Crimson Roses

    The realm of crimson roses was my treasure
    The secret haven of my desires for extravagant dreams
    The sweet and bewitching scent of the crimson roses drugged me
    It was like I drank the poison of oblivion for the very first time
    And I forgot my essence, bleeding my heart out

    I had visions and hallucinations like I was in an eternal sleep
    I saw beauty and magnificence in every corner of the castle of dreams
    Crying and smiling, I’ve finally found infinite delight in my abyss of anguish
    No pang could frighten me anymore because I was free
    Like a bird flying so high, it could touch the sky

    I belonged to the realm of crimson roses, and my heart was bound to it
    Through invisible chains made of love and death
    No slumber was necessary anymore because I was in a perpetual state of stupor
    Enchanted by a wicked spell cast over me, I could no longer abandon my state of captivity
    I was languidly mesmerised

    I surrendered to a throne of nightmares and dread
    It was made of crimson roses and adorned with long and sharp thorns
    So pointed were their punches pierced my heart
    Making me bleed until I became an ethereal creature of the night
    The pain freed me from fears and insecurities
    And I had not anymore a material body
    After all, I never lived in reality because I was born in the realm of nightmares and madness

    I knew not whether I dreamt or waked
    So dazed was my mind, I could not divine between vision and verity
    The realm of crimson roses could have been a spectre of my imagination
    Enchanting me like a nocturnal lullaby
    It suited my senses and hypnotised my heart
    A fleeting Utopia, born to wither with the dawn.
    Elisabetta

  • The Mask Of Illusion

    The Mask Of Illusion

    The mask of illusion hid behind an ephemeral mirth
    Whenever I tried to pick the sublime flowers of joy
    Pretending that I could be worthy of happiness and hope

    Only in my dreams, I could see my confined heart
    In a cage made of crystal and gold
    From which it could never be set free
    Because the destiny of my soul was doomed forever to indifference and distress

    That was the reason I fed myself with the poison of illusions
    Illusions hiding behind a mask of conventional pretences
    I’ve always loved lying to myself

    In the rush for survival, I forgot my real name
    Getting lost amidst the euphoric frenzy of fleeting instants
    I did let myself dissolve in the labyrinth of shadows

    The mask of illusion became deformed and heavier
    And underneath it, there was only a haze of darkness
    A void where once upon a time there was a glowing light

    Silence replaced hopes and desires
    And I forgot the sight of truth and reality
    The spell of bitter lies had enchanted me

    Hence, my despair grew deeper in the garden of thorns
    A secret garden where no flower of joy could ever bloom
    The mask of illusion and deceit sunk deep into the cold soil, made of fragments of shattered delusions

    No soul would ever find this kingdom of nowhere
    Impenetrable and invisible to ordinary sight
    This magic realm of enigmas and secrets concealed every untruth and illusion
    Though every fragment of it was woven from fallacies, for all the masks of illusion lay buried beneath

    Surprised no more
    I surrendered to the sweet lullabies coming from each flower
    With the certitude that I was one of my dreams

    Victim of my own hallucinations
    I wandered endlessly through the spectral haze of my illusions
    Surrounded by the decay of faded memories that lingered like lost ghosts
    Never to return to my forsaken reality.
    Elisabetta

  • The Death In Front Of Me

    The Death In Front Of Me

    The death in front of me manifested in the night
    During my solitary stroll in the gelid streets
    Where no one could have saved me
    Surrounded by the whispers of dead spirit and madness

    The death inside myself amused me without any doubt
    The fantasies and memories that constantly would have hunted me
    They disappeared in the emptiness of the night
    And I alone had to face all my fears and anguishes
    Without any help or comfort

    Conscious of my unfair fate, I had to seek refuge in my inner thoughts
    Where I have could definitely be myself
    With no remorse or regrets
    Aiming to the most pure, and beautiful realm of my dreams

    A realm of visions and dreams was conceived by my weirdness and bizarre imagination
    Uncontrolled emotions pervaded my body until my bones
    And I didn’t feel anymore the frigid wind that stroked me
    I couldn’t even realise in which reality I was living in

    The darkness and the absolute silence were my loyal companions
    Although all the bizarre fantasies in my mind were always making noise
    And all I could see was the death in front of me
    Waiting for me to fall into decay
    I ended up in my dungeon, from where I never could have escaped

    My heart was entirely lost and full of longings
    And I couldn’t find any reasonable wisdom
    So much I was mislaid in my realm of illusions
    That I couldn’t see other realities than mine

    Nevertheless, when I was awakened from my slumber
    I felt the pain of my suffering and the transience of my imagination
    Yearning for a long-lost serenity that I never had
    A utopia made of ethereal beauty and love

    The death in front of me strove to possess me
    But it never had the chance to seize me
    Instead, I slipped through its grasp among the several shadows of the night
    Elisabetta

  • The Storm of Fire

    The Storm of Fire

    The storm of fire and water overcame the stillness of the night,
    Beneath a sky overcrowded with clouds and fire,
    A magnificent spectacle beyond every imagination,
    In the midst of the infinite emptiness.

    Darkness ruled this phantasmagorical realm of fantasy and reality,
    Where illusions and deception became the only reality,
    In a play of light and shadow beyond the visible world.

    Decadent longings blossomed like dead flowers,
    Waiting to be obliterated by the fallacious gleam of decayed stars,
    While every hope withered like smoke in the void,
    In the ephemeral realm of fleeting lusts and desires.

    Solitude and a melancholic nostalgia made sombre the sky,
    Where the moon wept silver tears upon the world of reality,
    Veiled by mantles of ash and forsaken sighs,
    lighting a requiem for dreams long buried.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Darkness and Dreams

    Darkness and Dreams

    Darkness and dreams had held the night in thrall,
    A realm where shadows whispered, devouring all.
    Through endless voids, where fear took root,
    The path was lost beneath each haunting foot.

    The moon’s dim light, swallowed by dreams,
    Faltered under darkness’s ruthless schemes.
    Dreams, like phantoms, twisted through the air,
    Filling cursed streets with cold despair.

    Beneath a sky where nightmares reigned,
    The ink-stained sea had swallowed all in vain.
    Dreams surged like tides in an eerie dance,
    Drawing all into a deep, shadowed trance.

    A tower had loomed, wrapped in endless night,
    Where dreams turned dark and extinguished all light.
    Hope had become a fleeting gleam,
    Swallowed whole by a dream’s dark scream.

    Stars, once bright, had been shrouded in gloom,
    Flickering like dreams caught in an endless doom.
    In the darkness, the voids had whispered low,
    Of secrets, the dreamworld wished to show.

    Shadows had gathered, thick as fears,
    Spinning dreams, entwining years.
    Darkness, a shroud that wouldn’t lift,
    Had carried dreams in an endless drift.

    Dreams of escape had faltered and bent,
    Crushed beneath darkness’s cruel descent.
    A realm of sleep where none could flee,
    As dreams became a cold reality.

    The iron gate had gleamed, a portal to dread,
    Guarded by dreams of the nameless dead.
    In the depths, darkness had claimed its throne,
    Where dreams of light were overthrown.

    Freedom had vanished, consumed by night,
    As dreams, unrelenting, had held their might.
    No dawn, no hope, no distant gleam,
    Only the endless dark and dream.

    Darkness and dreams, forever entwined,
    Had woven a prison around the mind.
    A soul, once free, had been lost to the dimness,
    Bound to dreams, never coming back.

    Thus, in shadows where nightmares slept,
    Darkness and dreams in silence crept.
    In endless night, the fate had been sealed,
    Where darkness and dreams were forever revealed.

    In shadows deep, where nightmares gleamed,
    Darkness and dreams had reigned supreme.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Swamp Of Fear

    The Swamp Of Fear

    The swamp of fear and dismay,
    A realm of no escape and no hope,
    Where nightmares ruled slumber
    And hypnosis betrayed ingenuity.

    Idiotic mirrors cast spells over the crowd of senseless ghosts,
    Deprived of every speck of wisdom,
    Wandered in the darkness without a reference,
    Believing the lie as truth.

    Sour tears fell upon the garden of obliviousness,
    A place of refuge for those who sought to destroy memories,
    Confident that the pain would disappear,
    As a vanishing dream in the valley of grief.

    But the shadows only deepened,
    And the weight of forgotten sorrow lingered still.
    In the labyrinth of shattered dreams,
    Each step carried the echoes of forgotten screams.

    Unseen needles pulled at the strings of consciousness,
    Twisting reality into grotesque shapes,
    Ghouls bled into nightmares.
    In the distance, a phantom bell tolled,
    Ringing for the lost souls who kneeled before oblivion.
    They whispered prayers to a silent void,
    Sought release, yet were trapped in endless woe.
    The fog of despair thickened,
    The swamp of fear swallowed all light.

    And the stars themselves flickered out,
    As if extinguished by unseen forces.
    Through tangled vines of despair,
    The withering winds howled secrets untold.

    And the void, cold and indifferent,
    Watched over the endless night of the forsaken.
    Faint glimmers of false hope flickered,
    Only to be swallowed whole
    By the ever-hungry void.

    In this realm where time did not exist,
    The living and dead became entangled,
    Their souls entwined in a dance
    Of eternal unrest.

    The swamp of fear stretched further,
    Claiming all that wandered near.
    In the end, nothing remained
    But relics of forsaken entities
    And dreams that had turned to dust.

    In the suffocating dark,
    A silent scream drowned in the abyss,
    And the cursed lantern faded,
    Leaving nothing but shadows,
    As the swamp of fear spread across an eternity,
    And all sank into oblivion.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Realm Of Solitude And Death

    The Realm Of Solitude And Death

    The realm of solitude and death was the reality of the empirical world,
    Where the paroxysm of loud emptiness and obscenity extinguished the frail beauty and delight.

    Somewhere between the darkness and light, there was a realm of lost desires,
    With no expectations left but only a bitter awareness.

    Soft-spoken words, once tender like nocturnal whispers, were swallowed by the abyss of emptiness,
    Their gentle promises were gripped by a greedy void that rendered them meaningless.

    In such a harsh landscape, beauty was turned into a fleeting spectre, easily consumed by the relentless nothingness,
    Delight, once magnificent and resplendent, had withered under the weight of pervasive desolation.

    Dreams and aspirations lay scattered, their essence extinguished by the crushing weight of a cruel reality,
    Echoes of unfulfilled longings were carved on the cold stones of a barren infinity, starkly contrasting with dreams.

    Every utterance, every mellow promise, disappeared into the darkness,
    The silence, absolute and isolating, caused even the most earnest expressions of feelings to be meaningless.

    The realm of solitude and death induced fragments of hope and beauty to be forever eclipsed,
    Forever forsaken in the relentless march of blankness and sorrow.

    Crying out of despair was just useless because of the imperishable cruelty of fate.
    All the ghostly puppets were powerless, and with time, they believed only to be worthless.

    The terrific silence of the annihilation echoed in the entire universe,
    Where the obscurity destroyed even the faintest flicker of light.

    In this vast emptiness, the stars seemed to mourn in their loneliness; their once bright glow was now reduced to a cold, apathetic shimmer.

    The veil of existence was but a thin cloth, easily torn by the ceaseless winds of despair, leaving behind only relics of bygone days.

    Amidst this astral desolation, expectations lay buried beneath layers of relentless darkness, suffocated by the heaviness of the eternal void.

    Each moment persisted, a remembrance of the unyielding nature of this forsaken realm, where the past and future dissolved into an infinite abyss of sorrow.

    And so, the abyss of solitude and death remained, an unending memento of the demise of lost dreams, where even echoes of existence faded into eternal quietness.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Oblivious Desires

    Oblivious Desires

    Oblivious desires hid beneath the starred sky,
    Nonsense from the clouds of voluptuous dreams,
    Becoming nightmares of an endless night spent in the labyrinth of darkness,
    Love and death were entwined like roses and thorns.

    Magic mirages were a transcendent wisp,
    Illusions faded with the breaking dawn,
    Phantasms that weathered on the edges of reality,
    Vanishing like shadows when the light was drawn.

    The moon whispered secrets to the silent sea,
    As waves crashed with a mournful melody,
    Lost souls wandered in the twilight’s embrace,
    Seeking consolation in the echoes of a forgotten cry.

    How indifferent were the stars to every earthly plight,
    Glimmering coldly in their distant domain,
    Witnessing the folly of mortal yearnings,
    As dreams dissolved into the night again.

    Oblivion embraced those who dared to dream and forget,
    In the realm where light and shadow met,
    Their desires, ephemeral as morning mist,
    Vanished in the twilight, bittersweet.

    The labyrinth’s passages recounted tales,
    Of love lost in the periods of time,
    Where roses wilted and thorns remained,
    In the garden of memories and regrets, so hauntingly sublime.

    Beneath the luminaries’ indifferent gaze,
    Hope flickered like a candle’s flame,
    Destined to be devoured by the obscurity,
    Although burning brightly anyway.

    In the end, the dusk claimed everything,
    Dreams and desires, love and strife,
    Leaving only the silence of eternity,
    In the labyrinth of the endless nights.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

© Esther Racah 2026. All rights reserved.