Fragments of vanished dreams were hidden in my secret garden, where I passed my nights crying bitter tears of grief and frenzy. Without a doubt, I was not surprised when the decrepit windows shattered as the impetuous wind made them sway in a rhythm that reminded me of a funereal elegy. The ancient clocks of my antique manor ticked each minute as if I were on the verge of waiting for some spectral visit to announce me dreadful revelations. And so the nights passed although I didn’t notice how fast time was proceeding since the day I lost all my cherished treasures, of which all that remained now were fragments of vanished dreams. Not enough tears could express the devastation devouring my heart viciously with a destructive passion. Affliction tried to softly soothe me as if the only way to embrace sorrow was to become despair myself with all the dismay I could possess. I wandered aimlessly near the small lake, which mirrored my mean-spirited mansion beneath the veiled countenance of the moon while hiding behind a shroud of dismal clouds. I desired so badly to smell the black flowers of vengeance, which adorned my garden once upon a time. Tired and torn my heart was aching with the utmost distress in the middle of a gathering of ghouls, which chaperoned me slowly like shadows from the Otherworld. No longer was I waiting for fate to alter the course of tumultuous events that ricocheted through my existence. My imagination was leading my yearnings astray into the abyss of oblivion, so discouraged by a chaotic mess of unfair fears. Alas, without any hesitation, I dared to attempt to free myself from that grip of oppression, but every endeavour of mine was in vain. Nothing had remained in the sacred place of my secret garden but fragments of vanished dreams, of which only memories faded by the mists of time remained to me.
Elisabetta Esther
Tag: secret garden
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Fragments Of Vanished Dreams
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Sparkles Of Spell And Starlight
Sparkles of spell and starlight rained over me in my luscious garden of roses and bones. The shining stars were celebrating a feast in the voluptuous night sky.
I fell in love with the glistening starlight and the sublime scent of my roses. I could taste the bitterness of melancholy in every drop of enchantment I was able to sip quietly in my secret refuge.
Locked and invisible to mortal gaze, I could freely talk to mirrors and ask questions to the wind. In the dark and gloomy night sky, I could glimpse sparkling gems casting glares across the clouds.
Nonetheless, I carried the burden of my tragedy, unaware of what love truly meant. I felt protected in my intimate garden of passion and forbidden desires, where I fantasised about lovely blossoms and sharp thorns.
The mesmerising night was celebrated by the stars and the moon, which sighed with delight and surprise. I dreamt of extravagant flowers blooming like arcane mysteries.
Awakened and dizzied, I relied on my derealization, and I could perceive all the things, which couldn’t be perceived by ordinary mortals. I have seen degradation and decay creep into magnificent works of art silently and subtly.
I was made of chaos and starlight. I became the lover of my cosmic dreams, which accompanied me to bewitching forests and labyrinths of perdition. I had embraced my doom and my oblivion.
Not far away, I could hear the ocean’s shore stuffed with broken seashells and withered rose petals. A salty breeze dazzled me by making me remember sugarcoated lies and bitter betrayals.

My heart beat fast like a comet star of fire and ice. I had become the queen of the night and darkness, and I followed the rules of madness and frenzy. I enjoyed casting tainted spells on mortal souls.Sparkles of magic and starlight unleashed free in my bizarre fantasies during a winter midnight in my secret garden of dead trees and faded blooms. I felt the discomfort of my mystic intuition that had me see much more of what I wanted to know.
I leaned against the stone wall of my gloomy dwelling. I had finally caught a glimpse of every single circumstance that I had imagined clearly in my previous dreams. I wished I were wrong and I wished to become silly like those lost creatures wandering in search of a phoney love.
And therein I was, waiting for the moon to rise again in the valley of crystal pebbles and alluring pale roses. I shunned the exquisite appetites of passion that had destroyed me in my past existence.
No mirror could ever hurt me any longer, at that very moment of awakening and awareness. I sparkled like a shining star among bones and candles. No ghouls could ever have hurt me now that I transformed into an imperturbable glimmer of starlight.
Elisabetta Esther -
The Thorns Of Anguish
The thorns of anguish pierced my heart
Making it bleed in dismay
In a distressing struggle in my sleepless nightsI wouldn’t feel any pleasure anymore
In this short existence of mine
And the only certitude remained was a frantic dreamA foolish dream made of many other dreams
A multitude of hallucinations
Ready to make me feel a joyful foolI’m not of this world of homologated humans
I’m made of dreams and illusions
I’m not a human at all, being an ethereal creature of the nightHiding under the blankets of my bed
I pretend to be the queen of my realm of ether and chaos
Avoiding to accept reality and its social conventionsI write because I feel there is no other way to express my inner world
In trivial and merry moments of my lifeOftentimes, I wouldn’t feel any pleasure anymore
Nor sadness, nor dread, nor longings
For I had become nothing more than a spiritI floated endlessly through the enchanted woods
Among elves and fairies whispering me secrets
While I was feeling blissful and bewildered at the same timeThe thorns of anguish pierced my heart again and again
Until the last drop of blood would drip on the cold soil
In my secret garden of dreams and nightmaresIn my arcane heaven, illusions bloomed alongside despair
And I would have become an impalpable and gloomy shadow
Incapable of feeling sorrow and mirthI had forgotten the hypocrisy of the disowned reality
Because I was so much lost in my metaphysical realm
An intricate labyrinth created by my own mindI became a phantom bound to an endless twilight
I was a creature of eternal dusk
Fading into the hush of the night mistThe moon cast silver woes
In my everlasting fantasy
Forever dissolved in nothingness.
Elisabetta -
A Buried Star
A Buried Star
A buried star lies in the garden of a soul
Lifeless and ashen
Motionless like a stainless steel sculpture
Cold like a dark wintertime evening
When the snow swirls chaotically
Whilst the frosty wind wraps the night darkness
A labyrinth of obscurity protects the buried star
A ferocious silence prevents any sound from waking the star
A star submerged in the quiet of an eternal torpor
No light is allowed to penetrate the secret garden
The lethal inertia of a lifeless star
Never being allowed to shine brightly
Trapped by fears and nightmares
Too fragile to hold on to the firmament
A concealed star lying in a pit of anguish and darkness
Not even a bashful glow could be discernible from afar.
Esther Elizabeth Racah -
Running After Illusions
Running After Illusions
Running after illusions
Being unable to cease to dream
Falling into the trap of deceptions
My life is a simulated existence
I feed myself of illusions
I don’t want to see the reality as it exists
Running after the madness of poetry
And hiding there
My secret flower garden
My dark safe haven
Where all my dreams are real
And where nobody can find me
Because I like to hide and become invisible
Becoming the spoils of a ghost that doesn’t exist anymore
Losing myself in the labyrinth of the obliviousness
After all, I am only the projection of a dream
Being not real.
Esther Elizabeth Racah