Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: resilience

  • Softly In Silence

    Softly In Silence

    Softly in silence, I lie to hide all the deception and lies from my naive heart
    I had to endure an existence of deceit and coercion
    Like a nightmare ghoul oppressing my pale slumber
    In an eternal night of haunting memories and wail

    I had constantly desired to be cherished and loved in vain
    I would have rather been remembered for my art than for my beauty
    So I preferred to hide behind my shield of silence and vanish into the ephemeral aether
    Like the mystic smoke from a burning flame

    Alas, in this silence, I remained quietly still like a crystal gem
    I was a withered bloom in a winter’s storm
    Unseen, unloved, forgotten
    Cradled in the embrace of the darkness

    I did not live for the sake of grace but for the grief
    Each heartbeat was woven in the dimness
    I was but a ghost wishing only to be mourned before bleeding my heart out
    Exanimate, I was sinking into a chaotic ecstasy of sorrow

    The eternal night cherished all my forbidden secrets
    Since I was forever bound to the dim dusk
    And every instant was midnight only for me
    Because I had obliterated time permanently

    I was born just as a punishment by the hands of my wicked fate
    Even the gleaming stars of the midnight sky had no mercy
    They stared at me indifferently as if my existence was just a futility
    I had lost every privilege to dream

    Just for a moment, I strived to change my fortune
    But I had no more strength to continue to exist
    All that I could do was stare at the walls of my dark chamber and fantasise
    I let the realm of dreams and absurdities swallow me

    I had to say goodbyes to the reality and normality
    I became a creature of a world of folly and oddities
    Only frenzies raptured my heart violently, and I let them in
    Softly in silence, I fell into the abyss of my own affliction.
    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 Invisible Cage

    The Invisible Cage

    The invisible cage was tight enough to trap every dream,
    Chains made of silence had bound sighs and hearts in an endless void of despair,
    Where hope was swallowed whole, and nothingness reigned.

    Having wandered through shadows, searching for hope,
    Each dream had been a reminder of an endless fight and failure.
    Darkness and light were trapped within the confines of an unseen embrace.

    A realm depleted of colour and lost without a trace,
    Whose walls were made of disquiet and the ceilings of doubt,
    Each teardrop had been a reminder of the dreams that screamed out.

    Yearned for freedom that dared just beyond,
    A flicker of hope had kept the spirit fond.
    The fences and chains were made of silence and fears deeply sown,
    And each thought became a reminder of how far distress and anguish had shown.

    The invisible cage was unseen but powerful,
    Had held the wandering spirits captive for far too long.
    Each day had felt like a ferocious struggle, and the nights had been long,
    Crushed beneath the weight of what seemed so unfair.

    Stares had looked to the sky where eagles had soared free,
    While the stars remained bound, longing to flee.
    In the abysm of the imagination, rebellion had ignited,
    Boldness had broken through what once was blighted.

    Desires had been filled with expectations beyond the realm of shadows,
    As the senses wandered through the endless dark.
    Each belief had turned to chains that dug deeper still,
    Like a well without water or a promise that would never be fulfilled.

    Though the cage had been hidden, its power had increased,
    Everything turned to dust like shattered crystals.
    In the garden of distress, the nightmares had bloomed and thrived,
    Sorrows were carved on each leaf and petal.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Forsaken Dreams

    Forsaken Dreams

    Forsaken dreams lay scattered like leaves on a desolate lawn,
    Beneath the weight of darkness, shadows loomed and sighed.
    A castle crumbled in the grip of despair,
    Fragments of hope were lost and hanging in the void.

    Wandering through silence where visions once soared,
    Stillness wrapped tightly around the forgotten.
    Each step was like drifting through memories frayed,
    As ghosts of ambition haunted paths once laid.

    Forgotten dreams, like stars turned to ash,
    Fleeting glimpses of futures that faded too fast.
    The sounds now muted, cold as stone,
    While shadows enveloped, tales left unknown.

    In a chamber of portraits, their faces half-blurred,
    The dreams of youth, in stillness, unheard.
    Calling from corners of places long lost,
    Whispering gently of the lines once crossed.

    Nonetheless, deep in the stillness, a flicker of pain,
    Forsaken dreams lingered; in shadows, they remained.
    Each one a reminder of battles hard-fought,
    Of fires within that time forgot.

    But hope lay buried, covered in dust,
    From ashes of sorrow, it rose from distrust.
    Gathering fragments, each whisper, each scream,
    In the dark of the night, the lost dream was redeemed.

    Mended the pieces, igniting a spark,
    Reviving the forgotten, illuminating the dark.
    For dreams, though shattered, never entirely die—
    In the heart of the dreamer, they eternally lie.

    Through the mist of despair, a path was found,
    With each heartbeat, shadows chased from the ground.
    Though night still lingered, dawn followed close,
    And in the garden of longing, hope arose.

    With courage reborn, a star now stood,
    Embracing the dawn, the new morning understood.
    In the silence of the night, fate was rewritten,
    For in dreams, belonging is always forgiven.

    Forsaken dreams lingered in the shadows,
    Casting ancient spells to find lost treasures.
    Forgotten mysteries carried the weight of unrealised desires,
    Although beneath the sorrow, a quiet strength stirred,
    Yearning for light once more.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Withered Rose

    The Withered Rose

    In the garden’s heart, the withered rose once stood weak,
    Petals kissed by the sun, no longer adorned in velvet shroud.
    With each dawn’s deadly whispers, her colours ceased to bloom,
    Once a vibrant display that dispelled all gloom.

    Her delight rang clear in the soft morning light,
    As bees danced around her, a joyful delight.
    Her fragrance enchanted, weaving spells in the air,
    Every passerby paused, captivated and rare.

    But time, that cruel thief with merciless claws,
    Brought storms and droughts, testing all who could withstand them.
    Now the withered rose droops in silence, colours bled,
    Each crumbling petal was a monument to the dead.

    Once an enchanting wonder, alive and bold,
    Now, she cradles shadows where memories unfold.
    Each petal and leaf that fell softly told tales of the past,
    Of love unfulfilled and moments that couldn’t last.

    Her roots stretched deep, clinging to what once was,
    And even in fading, there’s beauty because
    In her withered form, a tale still to disclose,
    Of passion and sorrow, of boldness and woes.

    In the twilight, where silence now reigns,
    The withered rose stood alone, succumbing to grief’s sweet pains.
    A vestige of devotion, of dreams twisted tight,
    In the heart of decay, the past was enshrined.

    And as the seasons turned with a gentle caress,
    The rose revealed to the wind her distress,
    For in every ending, there lies a new beginning,
    In withering petals, the magic found its art.

    Dreams collided with the weight of the night,
    Each heartbeat a spell, flickers of light and dark,
    In twilight’s grasp, her memories ignited like flames,
    Fleeting shadows of instants lost to the night.

    Beneath the dark sky, silence twisted and bent,
    The withered rose waited, where sorrow descended.
    Each sigh became a lament, each desire a still end.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Shadows of Trauma

    The Shadows of Trauma

    The shadows of trauma arose in the hollow night,
    When the world turned gloomy, devoid of light.
    There crept a cloud, cold and vast,
    A spectre summoned from the past.

    Faint whispers drifted in the wind’s soft cry,
    Of days gone by, where hope would die,
    Where edicts of a cruel fate
    Chained hearts and minds in endless woe.

    The quiet hours brought it near,
    A weight that fed on silent fear.
    Its claws of sorrow raked the soul,
    Leaving wounds that never would be whole.

    The shadows of trauma, long forgotten, or so it seemed,
    In the days when innocence once gleamed,
    But buried deep beneath the skin,
    The trauma stirred, awake within.

    The faces lost, the voices gone,
    But still, the trauma lingered on,
    A spectre bound to grief’s dark well,
    Where once there stood a fragile shell.

    It feasted on the hidden grief,
    In every sob, in every sigh.
    Teardrops of sorrow, silent thieves,
    Granted pain that would not die.

    The shadows of trauma, through haunted dreams, sought their prey,
    In every sigh, in each dismay.
    The fleeting peace was ripped away,
    As shadows lengthened, twisting astray.

    Now trapped beneath a heavy pall,
    With no escape, no hope to call,
    The past arose with forgotten names,
    And life would never be the same.

    In silence, it never swayed,
    The trauma cast in shades of fray,
    A haunting force that never fled,
    Until darkness lived where the light had bled.

    The shadows of trauma yelled to the wind,
    Like a horrible storm of fires and ice.
    Memories carved deep, where silence had sinned,
    Relics of anguish, a perilous price.

    Through the darkness, a shadow lingered,
    A yearning for solace, for new dawn’s heightened.
    Chaos and despair, a fragile thread,
    While wishes had lingered softly where shadows once dwelled.

    Fragility wilted in the chasms of despair,
    A haunting echo of a soul laid bare.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Delightful Anguish

    Delightful Anguish

    Delightful anguish hid behind a mask of twisted delight,
    A paradox that ensnared the heart,
    Casting a spell on those who attempted to escape the dismay,
    The pain, exquisite, wrapped around the spirit,
    Familiar yet haunting in its embrace,
    Filling the void with a tender sadness.

    Each moment of sorrow disguised in beauty,
    Where despair changed into torment,
    The gleaming mirth intertwined with grief,
    Crafting melodies that resonated in the void,
    A haunting hymn that played on repeat,
    A serenade of loss and longing intertwined.

    Faces appeared in fleeting visions,
    Their wicked grins shone bright and dimmed by time,
    In their presence was a savoured longing,
    Each memory became a bittersweet reminder,
    Of what was cherished and what slipped away,
    The delicate balance of joy and pain.

    In quiet moments, the weight of the past descended,
    A heavy curtain draped over the spirit,
    Each sigh was loaded with the scent of regret,
    A heady mixture of nostalgia and sorrow,
    Delightful anguish blossomed in the heart’s chamber,
    Nurtured by tears that fell like rain.

    Shadows danced along the gloomy walls,
    Revealing fragile scraps of emotion thriving in darkness,
    In this sanctuary of sorrow,
    Pain transformed into captivating masterworks,
    Allowing the heart to embrace its contradictions,
    Finding beauty in the ashes of despair.

    Eventually, delightful anguish lingered,
    A monument to the complexity of mortal emotions,
    A reminder that even in sorrow, beauty thrived,
    The prom continued, a timeless waltz,
    Of loss and longing, forever entwined,
    A bittersweet journey through the maze of the heart.

    Delightful anguish wove through each thought,
    Entwining past and present in a delicate embrace,
    Where memories shimmered like fleeting stars,
    Creating a tapestry of love and loss,
    Illuminating the shadows with soft light,
    A reminder that beauty flourished amidst sorrow.

    In the quiet, hope flickered like a candle,
    Embracing the fragility of existence,
    An echo of resilience, whispering softly,
    That even in darkness, love found a way,
    To mend the fractured soul, weaving grace.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Dead Desires

    Dead Desires

    Dead desires lingered like ghosts,
    Hovering over ruins of faded aspirations,
    The giggles of delight that once filled the air turned to despair,
    A reminder of desires that withered away,
    Like autumn leaves crumbling into dust,
    Beneath the weight of relentless time.

    In the stillness of forsaken dreams,
    Shadows swirled under the tree of hopes that once thrived,
    Weaving through remnants of a forgotten past,
    Each piece of yearning faded into the void,
    As the heart’s vibrant ache succumbed to silence,
    Lost in the echoes of what could have been.

    Days, once painted in vivid hues,
    Became shrouded in muted greys,
    Each moment became a cruel reminder,
    Of warmth that slipped through fingers,
    The chill of time’s cruel embrace
    Froze every hope into lifelessness.

    A single tear traced a path down a cheek,
    Carrying the burden of unfulfilled wishes,
    The heart, once a vessel of fervour,
    Now beat with a hollow rhythm,
    A metronome marking unachieved desires,
    Each tick resonated with loss.

    Dead desires drifted like fallen leaves,
    Words unspoken, deeply felt,
    In the stillness, they hung heavy,
    As the moon illuminated the decay of hope,
    Scattering dreams like ashes in the wind,
    Leaving only shadows of what had been.

    As twilight approached, the air grew colder,
    Each breath was a reminder of dreams abandoned,
    The heart ached for the fire it once held,
    Now, only embers remained,
    Smouldering in the corners of a darkened soul,
    A monument to the dead desires that lingered on.

    In the quiet corners of memory,
    The shadows whispered tales of longing,
    The paths not taken became a haunting refrain,
    As the heart learned to dwell in the silence,
    Embracing the sorrow that filled the void,
    Finding beauty in the ashes of dreams.

    Dead desires echoed through the aisles of time,
    A haunting melody of what might have been,
    Reverberating through the deepest depths of the abyss,
    And, in their sight, the heart understood,
    That within each ember lay a spark of hope,
    A reminder that even in loss, tragedy can unveil meaning.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Withering Tree

    The Withering Tree

    The Withering Tree
    by Esther Elizabeth Racah

    The withering tree stood bare amidst the wood,
    Its branches once reached for skies long gone.
    Leaves had fallen where they proudly stood,
    Resilience faded with each new dawn.

    Its trunk was gnarled, scarred by time,
    Rooted deep in forsaken earth.
    It had struggled to grasp a fleeting rhyme
    Of seasons past and vanished mirth.

    Winter winds had howled through its limbs,
    Shaking loose the last of pride.
    Each gust was a reminder of forgotten hymns
    In the cold where warmth had died.

    Spring had brought no buds from its bark,
    No whispers of renewal’s grace.
    The withering tree remained stark in the dark,
    A witness to nature’s cruel embrace.

    Summer’s sun had bypassed its boughs,
    Casting shadows on its forlorn frame.
    While life thrived in neighbouring crowds,
    The tree had stood still, devoid of flame.

    Autumn had arrived, but no colours blazed—
    They had long since faded away.
    The withering tree had endured in a sombre daze,
    A symbol of endless, silent decay.

    The ground beneath it had cracked and dried,
    No rain to quench its thirsty roots.
    Silent beneath an empty sky,
    Where once it had borne green shoots.

    Each storm that passed had left no mark;
    Its branches swayed but never bent.
    The tree had remained a hollow arc,
    Its growth and life long spent.

    It stood as a sombre sight,
    A monument to forgotten days.
    Its vibrant leaves had lost their light,
    In a landscape shrouded by decay’s haze.

    As seasons changed and years went by,
    The tree became a ghostly shade.
    Its story whispered to the sky,
    In silence, where it slowly decayed.

    In the forest where it once reigned,
    The withering tree’s memory waned—
    A symbol of time’s relentless strain,
    Where life’s echoes had long been drained.

  • Pain And Anguish

    Pain And Anguish

    Pain and anguish blossomed into a sombre dawn,
    When shadows lingered and hope withdrawn,
    And echoes of sorrow became silent and deep,
    In the abyss of grief, secrets were kept.

    A realm awash in tears that flowed like wild rivers,
    Where darkness reigned, and doubts grew,
    Within this bleak, relentless was the night,
    Glimmers of resilience fainted bright.

    Tales of shattered dreams and hearts torn apart,
    Wove a lore of loss, a solemn art,
    Amidst the despair, a sign of defeat and surrender,
    Yearned to pierce through the perpetual night.

    In the depths of desolation, a journey through sorrow,
    Kindling an unextinguished flame of destruction,
    Within the heavy gloom of ashes of despair,
    After the inexorable loss of solaces and grimaces.

    Haunting and heinous memories became hideous ghosts of the imagination,
    Influential in their gloomy and whispering torments,
    Leaving destruction and death behind.

    The aether became thick with the scent of despair,
    As intrusions from the past pierced through the night air,
    Spectral forms weaving a veil of woes,
    In a sky where the stars refused to glow.

    In a sky perpetually painted with a stormy dye,
    The silence was deafening, and the stillness was heavy as arsenic,
    Binding pure love and innocence in an unwavering state.

    In the shadow of sorrow, dreadful glimmers appeared,
    A long-forgotten nightmare as a distant hope,
    Fumbling in the darkness, wicked and frail,
    But enough to whisper that everything was lost.

    Pain and anguish bloomed into scorn and despair,
    During journeys made of infinite trials and unknown foes,
    When obscurity lingered and hope withdrawn,
    Echoes of sorrow became silent and deep,
    In the abyss of grief, secrets were kept.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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