Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: reflections

  • Betrayed By My Own Delusions

    Betrayed By My Own Delusions

    Betrayed by my own delusions
    I imagine being an ethereal fairy in my realm of dreams
    Where no creature could ever perturb my heart
    And I could cry out my soul

    Invane becomes my attempt to remain wise and sane
    Insanity and madness are my new names
    I forget my essence to transform into another myself
    And in this metamorphosis, I’m the ruler of my own kingdom

    Silence is my new favourite language
    I can touch flowers of emotions whose scent bewitches me
    I’m under the enchanting spell that I’ve cast upon myself
    I’m a turmoil of love and death, and no storm can prevent me from my intentions

    Quietude is my favourite to express myself
    I stare at my several reflections in the mirror of disquietude
    And I hide behind the magnificence of my exquisite garden of dreams
    Where I can fantasize about all my envisioned hallucinations

    Because I adore soaking in the fountain of everlasting passions
    As my limitless yearnings for decadence and dissolute emptiness increase at night
    During my delightful slumber
    When I’m betrayed by my own delusions

    Lying in my garden of lush and mesmerizing flowers
    I forget my name and my essence
    And I don’t feel any fear or concern about my fate
    Because I belong to the darkness and oblivion

    The eternal night with starred skies belongs to me
    I become an odd fairy floating freely among her flowers of decay
    I identify myself with decadence and extreme love
    Because I’m insane and a storm of passions

    Melancholy and sadness are my steady companions
    From which I can never separate myself
    And all my blooming flowers wither and fade away
    As soon as I weep for my long-lost innocence

    Betrayed by my own delusions
    I forget myself and I’m left bewildered
    Intoxicated with the poison of my own desires
    Lost in the turmoil of my madness and decadence.
    Elisabetta

  • My Blank Pages

    My Blank Pages

    My blank pages of life and stories teach me to embrace the enigma of my fate
    Whenever I think about my future
    I can only see blank pages of a book still to be written
    With my patience and perseverance, I try to love the unknown

    I always change mood like a cloudy sky that lets the sun shine through the haze
    Sometimes I feel like a flower that has been sunburned in the summer months
    Oftentimes I feel like a leaf falling from its tree under the influence of an unpredictable wind
    Everything around me is a reflection of my true self

    I always avoid mirrors to not let them swallow my soul
    Indeed, I am a perpetual dreamer whose real image appears through rhymes and verses
    I will never know myself for I’m an infinite abyss of mysteries
    And I even don’t aspire to get all the knowledge of this universe

    Always metamorphosing into someone new
    I wait for the time that doesn’t matter anymore
    As I see my shadow disappear beneath the night sky
    Wandering and getting lost in the forest of doubts

    I don’t have certitudes and I don’t know how to embrace my future
    Sometimes I believe that I love instability
    Sometimes I think that I have a predilection for blank pages
    I’m a blank page waiting to be written

    Paroxysm of emotions is my way of expressing my true essence
    I’m made of dreams and illusions
    I suffer unbearably and I love being delusional
    A romantic is never a loser but an eternal source of magnificence

    I will never bow to power and oppression
    I’m a free spirit and like a wildflower, I love to catch a glimpse of the sky
    While the pouring raindrops fall all over me
    I wait for my dreams to come true and for my heart to be consumed by madness
    As a book with blank pages, my inner senses yearn to be filled with both bliss and decay.
    Elisabetta

  • The Labyrinth Of Mirrors

    The Labyrinth Of Mirrors

    The labyrinth of mirrors waited for me to get lost
    Each mirror reflected a buried version of myself
    Each mirror reflected a buried memory of mine
    Although I was unconscious in my slumber
    I did know what was awaiting me

    So, I faced the consequences of watching my past
    In thousands and thousands of fragments of time
    Fragments that no longer belonged to me
    Nevertheless, they were there in front of me
    To show me that I could never flee from myself

    In this fictional world, time didn’t exist anymore
    And everything seemed frozen and immovable
    It appeared that each mirror whispered a silent agony
    No reflecting my image but only a memento of my life
    Remembrances clasping me with their powerful claws

    The labyrinth of mirrors transformed into a silent gelid garden
    Where no flower could ever have grown
    So extreme was the intemperate temper of the night’s darkness
    Whose blizzard struck me with its cynicism
    Depriving me of all my dreams

    Lingering in this dwelling of anguish and regret
    Astonished by the gleaming reflections of the sleek glass surfaces
    I gasped at the sight of gloomy shadows emerging from the mirrors
    Indeed, they were my memories transformed into ghostly clouds
    Starring at my soul while I was surrounded by ethereal hallucinations

    Every sob of mine carved a message onto my body
    So overwhelmed was I by countless emotions
    The teardrops descended on my face
    Weaving a sumptuous dress around me
    I was dressed in water and air

    The labyrinth of mirrors turned into a park of water and grass
    Where the flowers were made of crystal and tears
    Visions and fantasies wandered freely like butterflies
    Flying from one flower to another one
    Stroking my hair as softly as a whispered untruth

    The ghosts of my past vanished into the emptiness
    And I realized I would never wake from that illusion
    For I had become a part of it forever.
    Elisabetta

  • The Eternal Night

    The Eternal Night

    The eternal night within myself was sombre and mysterious,
    Like an obscure, vast, nocturnal ocean welcoming the starless night sky,
    A dark sky diving down into the sea depths.

    Obsessive was the wind hissing ominously against me,
    And in the same time, pushing me inside that frightening water realm,
    Where I was very driven to jump and disappear forever.

    Alone and lonely, I remained on the brink of the precipice,
    From where I heard a captivating spell of death and delight,
    Forgetting about every endeavour to endure a ruthless existence.

    I became the night, and the darkness pierced me like a sharp, poisoned arrow,
    Ready to be destroyed like a fragile crystal flower,
    With the awareness that I would become a part of the infinite void.

    And an absolute silence lit the memories within myself,
    Condemning me to relive my past,
    A realm I’ve always sought to escape.

    The void opened its maw, revealing itself a chasm of legends and glooms,
    Summoning me with its enchanting spell, recalling all I had lost,
    A dirge was sung by several faceless mirrors of sorrow and despair.

    Each remembrance burned like a fading flame,
    Illuminating instants that I dared not revisit,
    Although they lived like unbidden guests inside the darkness of my soul.

    I strived to stay away from that endless obscurity,
    Trembling as soon as its cold grasp reached and touched me,
    Provoking disturbing sensations and visions within me as fragments of life shattered into countless pieces.

    The waves below surged like spectral wraiths,
    Touching, pulling, claiming me as their own belonging,
    Promising delight and mirth in the depths of nothingness.

    I lingered suspended in that ethereal dwelling between life and death,
    Between the yearning to vanish,
    And the curse of perpetual souvenirs.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Mirror Spell

    The Mirror Spell

    The mirror spell was cast in a time long past,
    When the shadows were more sombre,
    And no light was reflected by that polished glass with worn edges,
    In a realm where dreams and desires were both shattered and torn.

    The mirror held a mystic snare,
    Since an ancient curse was embedded underneath;
    Its countenance became frozen as the night descended,
    Concealing tales of malcontent and sorrow.

    None could ever have touched it,
    A frail and lost vestige of the past.
    No one knew the foolish tale of this magic mirror,
    A mirror that, for every glance, granted but a glimpse of dread,
    Revealing only truths that none could bear.

    Withered hopes and desolate hearts laid bare in that realm of death,
    Each crack was a line of sorrow’s trace,
    Revealing each distorted dream in a haunting silence.
    Each night, it summoned a hollow tone,
    Luring the lost to claim its own;

    In haunted halls, where echoes roamed like wild animals,
    The mirror enticed the lost dreamers,
    Making them drunk on dreams, their fleeting light,
    Swallowed by chasms as dark as night;
    Its silent curse, a binding thread,
    To weave the hearts of the forgotten dead.

    In this fatal frolic of dreams and oblivion,
    Those who dared to peer inside,
    Were drawn to an abyss none could disguise;
    Till flesh and spirit, thin and worn,
    Became as pale as twilight morn.

    The mirror lingered in that desolate dwelling,
    A relic untouched by time,
    Luring those who sought reasons that would forever elude them.
    Veiled in glooms, it became a gateway,
    Pulling ghosts into a realm where whispers of despair merged with the lingering scent of dust and decay.

    Each sigh, a lullaby for the forlorn, coaxed the foolish and fearless alike until consumed by the darkness.
    They hovered beyond the reach of dawn,
    Into the infinite void.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Broken Mirror

    The Broken Mirror

    The Broken Mirror
    by Esther Elizabeth Racah

    The broken mirror reflected a fractured world,
    Facades twisted in the distant light,
    The truth was lost as reflections swirled,
    Clarity faded into the night.

    Each crack told tales of dreams once whole,
    Fragments were part of a distorted show,
    Sighs echoed from the secret dwellings of fractured souls,
    In the broken mirror’s shadowed glow.

    Silvered edges framed distorted scenes,
    A face with sights that could not be seen,
    Reflections trapped in shattered visions,
    Lost within chaotic reverie.

    The silvery glass spoke in muted, splintered tones,
    Revealing truths twisted and blurred,
    A thousand shards held silent moans,
    Where broken images remained unheard.

    Each piece held a sliver of the past,
    A memory splintered and unclear,
    In the mirror’s grasp, shadows cast,
    Untangling what was once held dear.

    Fractured light created a maze,
    A labyrinth of tales left untold,
    In this mirror’s cryptic haze,
    The past’s reflection turned cold.

    A portrait shattered by unseen hands,
    Happiness’s tales lost in grief’s embrace,
    Mirrored fragments dispersed across lands,
    Of broken hopes and shattered dreams.

    The broken mirror remained a cryptic guide,
    A map of what was lost and found,
    In its shards, the truth tried to hide,
    Within a maze where secrets were concealed.

    Every shard held a story half-told,
    A glimpse into lives that had been,
    In the mirror’s shattered, fractured folds,
    Dwelled memories of what was once seen.

    The surface, once clear, now lay in pieces,
    A burst image of days gone by,
    The obliterated mirror retained its silent secrets,
    In fragments where shadows still lie.

    As the pieces lay scattered and cold,
    The reflections faded out of view,
    In the broken mirror’s cryptic hold,
    The past’s echoes bid farewell.

  • Mirrors Of Dreams

    Mirrors Of Dreams

    Mirrors of dreams kept the reflections of shadows,
    Dark reflections caught every stare.
    Mirrors were ghostly relics,
    Revealing tales of forgotten woes.

    Dreams danced on silvered glass,
    Glimmers of hope from a distant past.
    In each mirror, a story gleamed,
    Of shattered desires that screamed.

    In the candle’s flicker, light waned,
    Casting eerie and arcane spells.
    Specs of dreams turned to dust,
    Vanishing softly as memories rusted.

    The mirrors of dreams held a silent gaze,
    Witnesses to longings’ decay.
    Yearnings, once bright, grew dim and pale,
    Trapped forever in this spectral magic.

    Amongst the cobwebs, shadows crept,
    Custodians of the illusions that slept.
    Their haunting shapes in silence roamed,
    In a manor where lost dreams wailed.

    The dreams spoke of nights long gone,
    Of promises made at the break of dawn.
    Now, they lingered in spectral hue,
    Mirrors of dreams, fragments of oaths once sworn.

    In the silence, a chilling swirl
    Stirred the dust of old decrees.
    Mirrors of dreams now cracked and worn,
    Reflected lives forever torn.

    Each reflection bore a scar,
    A witness to wishes afar.
    In the abyss of silence, their lore remained concealed,
    Dreams betrayed, now dark and cold.

    In every mirror’s haunted frame,
    Lay legends of a curse.
    Dreams once harboured, now bereft,
    In the gloom, they were left.

    Through manors and castles, the silence stretched,
    Amongst the mirrors, visions appeared lifeless.
    In frigid alcoves, where shadows crept,
    Lay the mirrors of dreams, inert.

    Through endless nights when silence screamed,
    Mirrors of dreams haunted slumbers,
    In their chasms, the past was buried,
    Reflecting truths that darkness hid.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • An Enigma

    An Enigma

    An enigma hid in the mansion of forgotten dreams,
    Where shadows whispered silent screams,
    Shrouding the enigma, cloaked in night,
    A tale obscured from mortal sight.

    Mirrors and ghosts haunted the halls,
    Reflecting secrets through eerie walls,
    Glimmers of the past in moonlit haze,
    Lost in time’s labyrinthine maze.

    Candles flickered, wan and pale,
    Telling secrets of the frail,
    Of love that perished, dreams that bled,
    In rooms where silence masked the dead.

    Mirrors cracked by sorrow’s hand,
    Reflected a world so dark, so grand,
    Where whispered words and solemn cries blended with the wind’s mournful sighs,
    Lost relics of a time long banned.

    Portraits stared with hollow eyes,
    Guardians of forgotten lies,
    Their painted smiles hid the tears,
    Of long-lost souls and vanished years.

    Cobwebs draped the chandelier,
    Rustling with each breath of fear,
    As footsteps echoed on the floor,
    A haunting rhythm, evermore.

    The garden, wild with thorns and greed,
    A relic of time’s cruel speed,
    Where once bloomed roses, red and fair,
    Now stands a graveyard of despair.

    The clock tower, rusted, struck no chime,
    A sentinel to decaying time,
    Its hands froze in endless plight,
    Marking the hour of infinite night.

    In the library, dust-covered tomes,
    Spoke of lives and silent glooms,
    Of poets lost in melancholy,
    Their words were a dance of solemn folly.

    By the hearth, now cold and dead,
    Lay ashes of words that once were said,
    Their warmth, a memory, now faded,
    In silence, their essence was jaded.

    The ballroom, grand, now stood forlorn,
    Echoing with a silent horn,
    Where once the waltz of life granted delight,
    Now shadows danced in the muted light.

    An ancient portrait framed in gold,
    Of shadows, beautiful and bold,
    Their eyes, an enigma, deep and wide,
    Held secrets of the dark inside.

    Whispers floated through the air,
    Of love betrayed, of deep despair,
    A haunting tale of sorrow’s kiss,
    An enigma wrapped in the mist.

    The attic held a secret chest,
    With treasures lost and stories left in bequest,
    A diary of a broken heart,
    Torn apart, a tragic art.

    Beneath the mansion’s grand façade,
    A magic vault where shadows guarded,
    A legacy of pain and woe,
    Where tears and whispers dwindled low.

    The enigma, wrapped in sorrow’s veil,
    A ghostly ship in endless sail,
    Its secrets whispered through the gloom,
    In the mansion, an eternal garden of thorns that never ceased to bloom.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • I Will Eventually Disappear Forever

    I Will Eventually Disappear Forever

    I Will Eventually Disappear Forever

    I will eventually disappear forever into the shadows of my past
    I will ultimately fade into those disturbing remembrances
    Which disfigured me from the beginning of time
    My soul will dissolve into nothingness
    I will be a non-entity
    An image without reflections or shadows
    On certain days, I am captive of my grief
    Some type of grief never leaves the soul
    It is a silent pain that makes the heart heavy as a quartz orb
    It is a silent cry in the middle of the night
    So subdued that not even my shadow can hear it
    Anguishes and regrets
    They are so ruthless
    That they cut my soul with their sharp blades
    Life is merciless
    I have to trust only myself
    Many times I had been deceived
    And only disappointment was the result
    Betrayal is a constant reminder of my solitude
    Suffering and delusion
    Nothing else
    Like a wound that never heals
    A broken heart whose countless fragments are scattered in the immensity of the universe
    And there is no longer any amend.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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