Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: regret

  • The Chains Of The Past

    The Chains Of The Past

    The chains of the past captivated me
    Placing me down on the cold soil of the garden of tears
    A place where no hope or wish was granted
    A dungeon of anguish and dismay that became my eternal realm

    An initiation ritual pierced my heart and made it bleed
    My blood nourished the flowers of betrayal and deception
    until they drained me of all strength
    Leaving me fainting on the cold soil among thorns and sharp stones

    Suddenly I felt that all my fears left my heart
    And I became the representation of numbness and apathy
    My body was as bloodless as an inanimate pebble
    Silent like a grave and dark as the night

    My soul parted whispering a farewell
    My heart was pale as ashes
    Every spark of curiosity and liveliness faded away
    Leaving me entombed in a deep slumber from which I would never awaken

    The chains of the past were a noose around my neck
    Drops of poison were falling on my face from the fountain of oblivion
    Longings and regrets entwined a chain of tears and blood around my heart
    A stupor was in my mind and weakness overwhelmed me

    My memories from the past became my hunting nightmares
    I couldn’t escape from them and hence I was lying helpless in the cold soil of the garden of death
    All I could hear were soft sighs and cries of despair
    Underneath the immense darkness of the night sky

    A curtain of haze blurred my blank gaze
    As the wind wove moans into shadows
    No dawn would ever find my eternal dusk
    No voice would unsettle my spectral silence

    Unable to find my way out of misery and sorrow
    I descended into the deepest abyss of darkness
    Becoming an unknown wraith in this garden of death
    Where even time had turned to dust
    And then only echoes of forsaken laments remained.
    Elisabetta

  • Drifting Away

    Drifting Away

    drifting away into nothingness
    into the total self-destruction
    not caring about the reality anymore
    letting the oblivion swallow me
    until nothing remains but only my name carved on a cold stone

    drowning deeply into the abyss of death
    where I will not be anything anymore
    not even memories will be left
    just some rhyme in the realm of dreams and decay

    fearless desires could never be lit up like inextinguishable flames
    but only frozen feelings were ruling the realm of my dreams

    the garden of my lust and passions became a desert
    where weeds of indifference grew like majestic trees
    trees of obliviousness and shallowness

    all my devotion and cherished treasures of love were destroyed by the ominous fire of betrayal
    leaving me a crashed flower with no vital signs
    just a dead flower on the cruel soil made of artificial adoration

    It’s just like a broken doll without impulse and lymph
    left alone to starve the love she really needed
    ready to be devoured by the void like she never existed

    drifting away into the valley of death and obliteration
    glad to have disappeared forever
    with regrets and remorses cling to me like Ivy

    a cruel wind spoils my heart, breaking it into pieces
    leaving me senseless, like buried alive in a trap of disloyalty

    surrendering to my defeat, I let death ruin me
    becoming fragments of stars
    fading away from the world of hypocrisy and diseases

    my screams were just too silent to be heard
    my heartbeats stopped permanently
    nothing anymore was the same
    in a garden of decay and cruelty
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Abyss of Death

    The Abyss of Death

    The abyss of death was in the deep valley of sorrows, a dark abyss where the light dare not tread,
    Shadows entwined with nightmares, evoking the dead.
    Time froze in the storm, beneath hollow spaces,
    The silence was so heavy it swallowed each dream.

    A gaze into the void was an unbearable dismay,
    Each sigh and cry was just a reminder, and each silence enthralled.
    The faces of loved ones, now phantoms, appeared like hunting ghouls,
    Swirling through instants that once held them near.

    All the fantasies that once blossomed in the gardens of innocence,
    Now faded like the twilight, a flicker of deception.
    Wanderers got lost through corridors of time lined with regret,
    Haunted by spectres along the paths, a forgotten nightmare and sadness.

    Inside the deepest despair and darkness, acceptance may have bloomed,
    Death was but a doorway leading to a new world,
    Where all of the tales, like rivers, were flowing,
    In the mechanism of time, the merciless enemy.

    In the abyss of death, no hope or expectations,
    No choices, no rise and no fall.
    No wisdom could have divined, through its chilling embrace,
    Death was but an irreversible chapter, a doomed passage to another realm.

    In despair’s cold grasp, shadows gathered,
    Fragments of abandoned dreams were left bleak and hollow.
    Each instant felt like the same surrender,
    As hope dissolves into the ether of night.

    Faint memories, mere phantoms of what once was,
    They drifted like ashes on a relentless wind.
    Time, a cruel jest, mocked the aching heart,
    Turning warmth into mournful silence.

    In the chasm of oblivion, there was no consolation, no reprieve,
    Only the burden of regrets weighing everything down,
    A suffocating reminder of what has vanished and could not return,
    And the chilling truth that nothing remained,
    In the abyss of death, all was lost, and none ever returned.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Dead Dreams

    Dead Dreams

    Dead dreams haunted
    the hollow realm,
    where forgotten hopes withered
    beneath a sky
    of perpetual dusk.

    Once, this place had been
    crowded with life,
    with hope,
    with the vibrant pulse of chance.
    But those days were long gone,
    and now the only inhabitants
    were ghosts
    of forgotten desires.

    Regret lingered
    as sharp and suffocating as smoke,
    tainting everything
    it touched.

    Dead dreams lingered
    in the corners,
    hiding in the cracks of walls,
    in the dust that coated
    every room.

    The house was falling apart,
    its bones creaking
    under the strain of time.

    The windows were broken,
    the doors hanging loose
    on their hinges,
    and yet something remained—
    a presence, invisible,
    undeniable,
    watched from the shadows.

    Dead dreams whispered
    through the air,
    soft voices,
    insistent.

    They spoke
    of what could have been,
    of paths not taken,
    of futures lost.

    Their words wound
    through the halls,
    pulling deeper
    into the heart
    of decay.

    The walls seemed to close in,
    the rooms growing smaller,
    more suffocating.

    The air was thick with dust,
    with the weight
    of years.

    Dead dreams never indeed die;
    they fade,
    becoming one with shadows,
    with silence.

    The house would stand forever,
    a monument
    to what was lost,
    to what could never
    be reclaimed.

    In the end,
    it would claim all,
    just as it had claimed
    those who came before.

    There was no escape
    from the dead dreams.

    They lingered on
    long afterlife
    had left.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Shattered Expectations

    Shattered Expectations

    Shattered expectations lay heavy,
    Upon a once-bright horizon,
    Casting gloom over whispered promises,
    Dreams shattered like fragile glass,
    Each shard reflected unrealised aspirations,
    Their brilliance was dulled by the sting of reality.

    In an instant of fracture,
    The future darkened with despair,
    The heartfelt, sharp sting of disillusionment,
    Every step forward met with waves of grief,
    Dragging the spirit into a pit of sorrow,
    Where hope became a distant memory.

    The sky was loaded with clouds and forgotten ambitions,
    Each gust of wind was a reminder of paths diverged,
    Faces that once gleamed with potential,
    Now, they wore masks of resignation,
    Eyes clouded with the weight of disappointment,
    The spark of hope extinguished too soon.

    Time, relentless in its march,
    Became a cruel companion,
    Each tick of the clock was a reminder
    Of the opportunities that slipped away,
    Moments scattered like shards of mirrors,
    Reflecting the painful truth of what could have been.

    In this desolation, nefarious thoughts persisted,
    What had been could never be reclaimed,
    The world spun on, indifferent to grief,
    Each sunrise bore the weight of shattered dreams,
    And a quiet acceptance began to take root,
    Acknowledging that some dreams were never meant to flourish.

    Amid the gloom of bygone days,
    Traces of forsaken desires lingered,
    A haunting reminder of what was lost,
    And even in the depths of hope,
    No flicker of resilience could have sparked,
    Leaving only shadows where dreams once thrived.

    Shattered expectations became remote relics,
    As the heart learned to wander through the darkness,
    Searching for echoes in a desolate chamber,
    Where shadows coiled like serpents of despair.

    Each bit of void swallowed oppressively in silence,
    And dreams, like spectres, faded into the gloom,
    In the quietness, a haunting sorrow lingered.

    In shadows, regret festered,
    A reminder of lost prospects,
    Trapped in a labyrinth of misery.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Fragments of Regret

    Fragments of Regret

    Fragments of regret haunt the night,
    In shadows hideouts where spectres dwell,
    Where moonlight casts its mournful spell,
    There lies a realm of bitter grief,
    Where ghosts of bygone epochs find relief.

    The mazes of a haunted mind,
    With memories cruel, their chains entwined,
    Echo with a sorrowful moan,
    As regrets claim their spectral throne.

    Fragments of regret haunt the night,
    Through halls of mist and endless night,
    Where faded hopes lose all their light,
    The wraiths of fate left unmade,
    Drape heavily in spectral shade.

    Each fleeting hope and unspoken plea,
    Becomes a ghoul that hounds the free,
    A lament of moments lost in vain,
    Their hollow cries a ceaseless pain.

    In chambers draped with ashen gloom,
    Where lost ambitions meet their doom,
    The spectres dance in mournful grace,
    Their sorrow was etched upon their face.

    Fragments of regret haunt the night,
    The echo of a whispered choice,
    A silenced scream, a broken voice,
    Shackled to the past’s cruel jest,
    The ghosts of regret never rest.

    Beneath the pall of the moon’s embrace,
    Where shadows mock a vanished face,
    Regrets as ghosts, both cold and vile,
    Haunt the aisles of denial.

    In this forsaken, haunted place,
    Where time stands motionless, a grim embrace,
    The restless phantoms of regret
    Reveal a truth none can’t forget.

    Fragments of regret haunt the night,
    For in the realm of shadows profound,
    Where anguished souls and memories are bound,
    The weight of choices left undone
    It is a curse that haunts everyone.

    So, it needs to tread with care through this dark land,
    Where spectres weave their mournful strand,
    And face the ghosts of dreams untried,
    Lest wanderers will be lost where shadows bide.

    As echoes of regret persist,
    Their chilling grip is like phantom mist,
    They weave through memories, cruel and dire,
    Igniting in the heart a darkened fire.

    In every creak of the decaying wood,
    In the damp and disintegrating falsehood,
    Lies the lingering trace of those lost dreams,
    And the torment of silent screams.

    Fragments of regret haunt the night,
    Casting their shadows far and wide,
    Till the soul is lost in this eternal tide,
    Forever bound by chains unseen,
    Where regret’s cruel ghosts have always been.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Abyss of Death

    The Abyss of Death

    The Abyss of Death
    by Esther Elizabeth Racah

    Then came the abyss of death, deep and wide,
    Where all must fall, where none could hide.
    The abyss of death, it called to stars,
    A silent plea, eternally.
    In that endless chasm, the longing was laid to sleep.
    The void embraced lost regret,
    And whispered, “Here, soon forget.”

    The cold was vast, the dark complete,
    And close behind, it hurt so endearing.
    For death, it took it all,
    Secret longings for lost hopes fell.
    The void consumed what life remained,
    And left behind the husks of pain.
    A hollow shell of what was,
    Now drifting in eternity.

    Finally, in that dark, quiet peace,
    A welcome end, a soft release.
    The chains of life that bound the soul,
    Were broken as control was lost.
    And though the blackness held tight,
    There was no fear; no light was seen.
    For, in the end, all must face,
    The emptiness of death’s embrace.

    The abyss keeps waiting for every heart,
    To draw in, to tear apart.
    What once was love, or hope, or fear,
    It was swallowed by the depths so near.
    No longer was there a yearning to see,
    For death has stolen that away.
    And in the abyss of death, wide and vast,
    Peace and rest were finally found.

    In that abyss, where none return,
    The fires of life no longer burn.
    All that was, now shadows thin,
    A spectre lost in an endless spin.
    Memories that once were clear,
    Are fading echoes, far from here.
    The void cradled every thought,
    Until there was no more to be sought.

    And so it sailed, no longer bound,
    By mortal coils or earthly sound.
    No time, no space, no fear, no care,
    Just an endless night, just empty air.
    What lay beyond was not known,
    For in this abysm, growth ceased.
    The abyss of death claimed the final breath,
    And there, the stillness of the end was found.

  • Silent Darkness

    Silent Darkness

    Silent darkness lay among the garden of dreams and nightmares,
    Illusions and chimaeras blossomed into alluring flowers,
    Under the sight of a dark night sky studded with stars.

    Solemn promises of failed loves and altered desires were the guardians of this sacred alcove,
    A garden immersed in a silent darkness.

    Moonlight glimmered, illuminating the scene with a spectral glow,
    Casting shadows that moved with a ghostly grace.
    Fragments of forgotten vows were scattered through the still air,
    As the past intertwined itself with the present.

    Each petal was exhausted by the burden of memories,
    Infuse with the fragrance of longing and regret.
    The trees loomed eternal, their branches like skeletal arms,
    Reaching out to caress the fabric of the night.

    In this garden, time halted to flow,
    Instants frozen in a fragile web.
    Dreams entangled with nightmares,
    Creating an ethereal veil of beauty and despair.

    A mild breeze stirred the leaves of decay,
    A sigh of the universe manifesting in the dark night.
    A wind that carried the essence of lost yearnings,
    Revealing secrets to those who dared to imagine fantasy worlds.

    Beneath the ancient oak, a stone throne lay,
    Weathered by the passage of countless seasons.
    It kept the marks of periods of solace and delight,
    In the embrace of the garden’s silent refuge.

    The stars above bore a timeless glint,
    Glimpses of the tales created in this secret place.
    They shimmered like distant lanterns,
    Guiding daring wandered through the labyrinth of dreams.

    Silent darkness obscured the night,
    A solitary warder of the fragile beauty.
    It draped the garden in an eternal silence,
    Holding its enigmas in the chasms of the night.

    The secret garden was the dwelling of dreams and nightmares,
    Where delusions and mirages flourished,
    Silent darkness lingered as a timeless protection of an invisible realm.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Shattered Mirror

    The Shattered Mirror

    The shattered mirror reflected in a room where shadows blended,
    A mirror that was laid with cracks that had torn,
    Its fractured glass reflected the gloom,
    The sorrows of an empty and desolate room.

    Each shard had been a fragment of despair,
    A thousand eyes that had never stared,
    Their stories had been lost in time’s cruel twist,
    A reflection of what had been missed.

    The gelid air pressed, tight and thin,
    As if the night itself might spin,
    The glass trembled, cracked, and shrieked,
    A haunting of forgotten lies.

    Mystery had been seen within the shards so frail,
    Where ghosts of dreams had not sailed,
    A broken past, a fractured sight,
    In a mirror that showed secrets that had been true.

    The shattered mirror shimmered with a ghostly light,
    Reflecting sinister shadows in the night,
    Each fragment held a glimpse of disdain,
    A shattered tale that would not remain.

    The room was filled with spectral sighs,
    As the mirror’s shards revealed betrayal,
    The dreams that had shattered long ago,
    In that room where sorrow had grown.

    The darkness wrapped around the glass,
    A ghostly shroud as moments had passed,
    In the mirror’s fractured face,
    Lay a haunted, desolate space.

    The room grew colder, steeped in the past,
    Where whispers of anguish were cast,
    Each piece of glass held a mournful tune,
    A requiem for a forsaken moon.

    Through the fractures, shadows wept,
    Silent sorrows forever kept,
    The reflection of what once was clear,
    Now lost in a realm of devilish fear.

    Time’s passage had left a mark so deep,
    Where phantoms of memories had silently crept,
    The mirror’s shards, each one steeped in regret,
    Had borne witness to the dreams unmet.

    In the stillness, where echoes had wailed,
    A tale of sorrow, a ghostly veil,
    And as the night had taken its final breath,
    The mirror’s silence had spoken of death.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Ruins Of Failed Dreams

    Ruins Of Failed Dreams

    Ruins of failed dreams stroke the leaves of the tree of death,
    Chaotically swirling in the emptiness of the minacious infinite abyss,
    Where obliviousness ruled as a supreme force,
    Bending the realms of beauty and delight.

    Whispers of regret and anguish became an open book of archaic tales,
    Secrets were sealed by the raindrops of darkness in the treasure chest of folly,
    Last forever and always was the hope of a better world,
    Once, dizziness overwhelmed every sense.

    Every regretful thought disappeared,
    Like a faded vision of lost memories and instants,
    Melting in the chaotic mirage of a crumbling universe,
    In the stillness of the darkness.

    Ruins of failed dreams lay dead like burnt stars,
    Not anymore gleaming through the veil of the night,
    Just miserable mementoes of what was once magnificent and exquisite,
    End of a world of fleeting illusions and ephemeral splendour.

    Echoes of forgotten desires haunted the tranquil blankness,
    And the shadows of despair clung to the remnants of broken mirrors,
    Lost in the endless hallways of time and space,
    In a desolate expanse where yesteryears and hereafter faded away.

    The ghosts of forsaken dreams drifted like spectral wraiths,
    With mournful sighs mingling with the cold winds of oblivion,
    As the last glimmer of expectations succumbed to the relentless night.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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