The night lies over me like an immense quilted blanket of stars and gloomy clouds
Sweet are the whispers of my dreams that welcome me into their magical alcove
Lost in the depths of my imagination
I continue to wander in the night
Unaware of my fate, I am blindfolded on my uncertain path
Letting the disquiet burn in my heart as if I were a candle in a storm
I wait for the thorns to turn into feathers in my secret garden of mystery
Everything is concealed from my eyes
And I wake up in the haze and turmoil
In front of me only emptiness and the scent of fear
How long could I have fed myself on the illusion of my dreams?
I know not as long as the clouds obscured the stars
I covet fondly the freedom of birds lingering in the firmament
I struggle intensely to catch a glimpse of withered flowers and evanescent butterflies
And the night lies over me again like a layered shroud
Quietly the wind whispers legends and enchantments
Taking me into the fantastic realm of chimaeras and the overworld
Where no mortal soul could be conceived
Since only fabulous creatures inhabit my fantasy
Loneliness surrounds me and hushes my eagerness to lose myself easily in the maze of foolishness
I sense my dreams as the only reality where I am my tangible self
An ocean filled with delusions and empty shells attempts to swallow my awareness
The exquisite scent of roses and magnolias cannot rescue me any longer
Since the oblivion of the night’s desires takes hold of me
It was too late for me to redeem my heart
In the solitude of the dusk
When everything seemed so painfully calm
Alas, could I finally find myself in the lost abyss of my ineptitude?
I sigh and dream
No further wisdom enlightens my vision
Now that the night lies over me.
Elisabetta Esther
Tag: Romanticism
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The Night Lies Over Me
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Bearing The Yoke Of My Fate
Bearing the yoke of my fate
I strive to stand up in a reality of tears and screams
So often, I felt the overwhelming weight of my choices
As if the sky had fallen over me like an antique drape
And regrets swallow my heart, shattering it into piecesSo, I remained alone in an empty chamber furnished only by silence and darkness
And there I lingered, soaked in my hallucinations and sorrows
I lost the sense of time
I close my eyes, and I perceive the emptiness of existence
The past and the present blend like colours on a canvasI wonder what the sense of my life was and is
Is all the suffering worth it?
Can my tears wash away my pain?
It should be the time to lose control of rationality
As if I want to pretend that I have some sparkle of wisdom
Nevertheless, everything is vain, and everything will eventually be obliteratedBearing the yoke of my fate
I wander in the vastness of desolation and indifference
Should I have been dreaming all night, I knew not
Because I wasn’t awake or as well asleep
I only felt a sweet languor
I only felt a sharp and atrocious pain
Dragging me deep into the abyss of self-destruction
Elisabetta -
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 unknownI 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 selfI 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 universeAlways 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 doubtsI 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 writtenParoxysm 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 magnificenceI 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 -
My Song Of Agony
My Song Of Agony
this is my song of agony
I wish I had understood before
my fault is my fragility and vulnerability
being like a child who had never been protected
as a consequence of all the abuses
I had to endure in my life
without any protectionto be loved and protected is a delight I will never know
I am not any more broken inside
because I have been already shattered to fragments of myself
I am not any more a whole creature
being always cynically exploited by others
the only things to keep me alive is my poetry
which is part of my body and soulI am poetry, and it is the purest part of me
poetry for pure and naive souls
poetry for creatures who are honestly in love
a pure love that doesn’t betray
love is not just a short sentence
fake love is a successful tool to lure a pure soul
pure love is the most sublime of all feelings
which should not be used to hurt fragile souls
souls who never met kindness, love and compassionbecause it is so hard to be me
I am not just a freaky girl for the sake of being “cool”
there are traumas and abuses behind my being a “dark romantic” poet
in an aura of romantic torments and anguishes
being an exotic flower and an unconventional girl
the Israeli Jewish girl with “that Italian” accentand there is also my loss since two years
which I still feel a lot
not having a father is miserable
not having more chance to have a family
being lonely and alone
no love
no affection
just the coldness of a cynic societythis is my song of agony and pain
living a life made of words, passions and love
love burns me alive
love pierces my heart
I scream in agony
it is the scream of my bleeding heart
and all the stars of the universe collide
merging in a hybrid star
which is inside my heartI cannot stop loving
I cannot stop dreaming
a transcendental love
without reward
without return.
Esther Elizabeth Racah
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Shyness
Shyness
Shyness is one of the several gems that are held inside the treasure of my soul
I would permanently hide this side of myself with a smile rather than being paralysed by fear
It is the softness and sweetness of my dreamy essence
It is part of my delicacy and femininity
My soul is similar to a piano nocturne
My shyness would conceal my authentic nature, which is a blend of Romanticism and Victorian era
Sometimes I would identify myself in some painting
As if I would belong to a previous reality
Hence I would disappear amid my dreams
Lost in the sublimity and beauty of the universe.
Esther Racah