Tag: Restless Spirits

  • The Realm Of Darkness

    The Realm Of Darkness

    The realm of darkness reigned over the valley of shadows,
    Whispers echoed of secrets long kept,
    Wandering through that eerie land,
    Where ghosts clung tight to cold and dead sand castles.

    The moon hung pale and meagre in the haunted sky,
    Casting a sallow glow where the ghouls lay.
    Hollow stares oversaw with silent dread,
    In a dwelling where the living had fled.

    A mansion loomed with windows cracked,
    Its halls lay silent and obscured by memories.
    Cobwebs shrouded each corner tight,
    As time became still in the endless nights.

    A frosty wind lingered among forsaken relics,
    An ancient place that harboured only quiet death.
    The walls hummed with tales of sorrow and woe,
    Of existences lost centuries ago.

    Doors creaked open with eerie sobs,
    Leading further where the darkness had grown.
    An ambience of doom and fear arose, but there was no escape,
    A suffocating silence filled the air.

    Through endless halls, shadows deceived,
    Each niche hid despair’s cruel snare,
    In a place where night clung to the air.

    A mirror waited in a forgotten room,
    Reflecting faces twisted in doom.
    One spectre stared back with eyes so grim,
    Trapped in the void, lost and dim.

    Once whole, now merely a part
    Of the darkness that tore apart.
    In the realm of darkness, forever to dwell,
    Dreamers were ensnared in the night’s cruel spell.

    Underneath the floors, shadows crawled,
    Restless dreams could not befall.
    Ancient fears were left behind,
    In the void where echoes bind.

    The wind howled through barren trees,
    Carrying with it ghostly pleas
    Of those who entered and never returned,
    Their stories of terror were forever unrevealed.

    An ancient clock ticked loudly in the gloom,
    Marking time in that eternal vault.
    Its pendulum swung like a centuries-old curse,
    Shrouding this realm in a veil of forgotten lore.

    Lights faded as shadows reigned,
    Trapped in a world of endless despair.
    No dawn broke that eternal night,
    Only sorrow beneath the gelid moon’s dim light.

    The realm of darkness lingered, forever lost,
    Where shadows wove tales of eternal night.
    In silence, memories were left to drift,
    Their essence was bound in the grasp of the void—
    An endless existence in a haunted dream.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Castle By The Ocean

    The Castle By The Ocean

    The castle by the ocean stood on a cliff ruled by shadows at night,
    An ancient, towering fortress, fierce and fantastic, haunted and forlorn.
    It rose from the rock, a sentinel of stone and memory,
    Bearing witness to countless storms, its walls were stroked by time and tide.

    Waves mild and intense disclosed secrets long heretofore,
    Stories of love and death, of struggles fought and lives surrendered.
    In the moon’s pale, ghostly glares, spectres roamed the halls at dusk,
    Their steps echoed through the aisles, a mournful melody.

    Turrets pierced through the mist, emerged scornful against the sky,
    Their silhouettes were a stark contrast to the swirling fog below.
    Windows, once alive with lamps, now gazed upon the sea,
    Stares of sorrow, dark and unbound, reflected the endless expanse.

    The castle’s gates, long rusted shut, held tales of ancient treasures,
    Of kings and queens, of fearless knights, their legends carved in gravel.
    The castle by the ocean with walls carved by time and storms kept secret stories from days sunk in oblivion,
    Each pebble bore the weight of a history’s silent song.

    Mirrors of the past stuck around inside every tormented chamber,
    In each stone, a hidden misery and a remembrance were entombed.
    The ballroom, now empty, once rang with giggle and mirth,
    Feasts and proms, melodies raised, celebrating life and inception.

    The castle by the ocean sobbed, a lament to the sky,
    Where restless spirits never perished, bound to this earthly realm.
    They wandered through the twilight, shades of what once was,
    Guardians of forgotten lore lost in time’s relentless haze.

    The library, with dusty tomes, held knowledge long since known,
    Books of wisdom, spells, and dreams, their pages now unattended.
    Cobwebs draped the chandeliers, their crystals dull and silver,
    Once sparkling at the candlelight, now dimmed by centuries’ decay.

    The courtyard, overgrown with wild shrubs, where flowers used to bloom,
    Now lay as silent witness to nature’s quiet doom.
    However, the castle by the ocean stood firm, defiant against time,
    A relic of a bygone era, preserved in sorrow’s tears.

    The castle by the ocean became a monument to the past,
    An ancient, towering fortress, severe and feral, tormented and desolate.
    Its heritage, etched in stone and sea, whispered on the wind,
    A tale of unyielding resolve, where ghouls endlessly persisted.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Darkness By The Sea

    Darkness By The Sea

    Darkness by the sea, the moon’s silver light cast a glow on the restless waves,
    Revealing the shadowed abyss where lay buried the deep ocean caves.
    A lighthouse stood as a lone sentinel, its beam weak and frail,
    Battling against the overwhelming, vast night and the whispering gale.

    The sea breathed out ancient secrets from chasms far below,
    Where creatures long forgotten in shadowy depths did grow.
    They muttered of shipwrecks, of sailors who were long lost,
    Of pacts with sinister devils and the terrible, heavy cost.

    On storm-laden nights when the sky split violently with blinding light,
    The sea revealed its raw fury, its boundless power, its dreadful might.
    Waves crashed like thunderous roars, tearing relentlessly at the shore,
    Unveiling the skeletal remains of the drowned, surfacing once more.

    A spectral figure emerged from the mist-laden, eerie gloom,
    A sailor, long dead, had risen from his long-forgotten doom.
    His eyes, hollow sockets, reflected the cold moon’s pale gleam,
    His voice was a chilling whisper, a wraith’s unsettling dream.

    His spectral voice softly sighed a warning of the sea’s haunting call,
    Luring with deceptive beauty that belied its darkened lies.
    He followed its siren song, its glittering promise of gold,
    Now he wandered the edges of its shores, his mournful story retold.

    The darkness by the sea held memories deeply steeped,
    Of lives that were taken, of secrets that silently seeped.
    Each wave was a haunting whisper, each tide was a sorrowful tear,
    From the restless souls of the lost who lingered far too near.

    Such were the dark tales that the vast ocean did keep,
    Of the restless spirits who wandered, of those who could not sleep.
    For the sea, in its eerie beauty, with its tempestuous glee,
    Held a darkness as deep as the abyss of the darkest sea.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Annihilated Dreams

    The Annihilated Dreams

    The annihilated dreams dwelled in the realm of betrayal and deception,
    Where hope and sorrow had intertwined and bided,
    The night was thick with spectral dread,
    A night sky where the lost were spread.

    The dreams, once vibrant, now lay broken,
    In the silence, their voices were unspoken,
    Their fragments scattered on the frigid soil,
    Vestiges of what had been before.

    The clock ticked on with a mournful sound,
    In this realm where despair was bound,
    The instants moved slowly, the hours dragged,
    Each minute draped in a ghostly shroud ragged.

    The walls, adorned with faded scenes,
    Of fractured hopes and broken dreams,
    Bore witness to the endless plight,
    Of souls who had lost their way in the night.

    The bed, once soft, now cold and bare,
    Was where the restless spirits stared,
    Their eyes wide open lost in fright,
    As they wandered through the endless night.

    The mirror’s shards reflected the pain,
    A thousand tears, a thousand stains,
    Each piece a glimpse of sorrow’s grip,
    A tale of dreams that could not slip.

    The night descended with a mantle of grey,
    The ghosts of dreams refused to sway,
    They lingered in the darkened room,
    A remembrance of sorrow’s gloom.

    In this realm of endless night,
    Where annihilated dreams had lost their fight,
    The echoes of despair were clear,
    In the silence, they drew near.

    In this forsaken land of deep shadows,
    Where endless nights denied sleep,
    The whispers of the fallen dreams,
    Intertwined with silent screams.

    In the corners, darkness loomed,
    Echoes of despair, they bloomed,
    Phantom voices softly sighed,
    In the silence, sorrow bided.

    The moon, a silent witness there,
    Cast its glow on souls laid bare,
    The weight of grief, a heavy shroud,
    Covered all, both low and proud.

    In this bleak and haunted space,
    Dreams and hope had lost their grace.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Hollow Graveyard

    The Hollow Graveyard

    The hollow graveyard lay beneath the yew,
    Where darkness spread among the dead,
    Its gates were rusted, old, and cold,
    A story of the lost untold.

    Each headstone marked a name erased,
    By time’s relentless, cruel haste,
    The paths were lined with autumn leaves,
    A carpet for the hearts that grieved.

    The trees, they whispered secrets dark,
    Of broken souls and sorrow stark,
    Their branches twisted like hands in pain,
    Reaching out in death’s domain.

    A spectre stood with wings outspread,
    His face was veiled, and his eyes were dead,
    He wept for those who sleep below,
    In silence deep, where shadows grew.

    The wind howled a mournful tune,
    Beneath the pale and ghostly moon,
    It carried with it cries of old,
    Of stories tragic yet untold.

    The wind’s laughter, now a wail,
    A night that sighed in a ghostly veil,
    Ghouls wandered through the mist and gloom,
    Their spirits were trapped within decrepit tombs.

    In the hall, stained glass glows,
    With colours lost to time’s cruel blows,
    The benches were empty, in the midst of dust-filled air,
    Where voices once rose, now lost despair.

    The clock tower struck the midnight hour,
    A tolling bell, a voice of power,
    It echoed through the hollow night,
    A sound that filled the heart with fright.

    Whoever walked through these old gates,
    They were wary of the past that time berated,
    For in the hollow graveyard, shadows of dismay lay,
    And in its silence, ghosts still cried.

    The moonlight danced on moss-covered stones,
    Casting eerie patterns, hauntingly alone,
    The silence of the night grew heavy with dread,
    As whispers of the past filled the air with lead.

    In the stillness, shadows seemed to breathe,
    A spectral presence, a chill that seethed,
    The nighttime, a labyrinth of sorrow and pain,
    Wove stories of the lost that remained.

    The mist curled tightly around each vault,
    A shroud that held the past tightly gripped,
    Echoes of forgotten tales softly sighed,
    As restless spirits in their hollow graves confided.

    Ancient oaks with bare branches,
    Held secrets in the cold night air,
    Their gnarled limbs stretched out like a plea,
    For solace in eternity’s decree.

    As dawn approached with its pale, wan light,
    The graveyard lay still, embracing the night,
    But shadows lingered where the living dared not tread,
    In a realm where the quiet and the haunted wedded.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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