Tag: secret garden

  • The Thorns Of Anguish

    The Thorns Of Anguish

    The thorns of anguish pierced my heart
    Making it bleed in dismay
    In a distressing struggle in my sleepless nights

    I wouldn’t feel any pleasure anymore
    In this short existence of mine
    And the only certitude remained was a frantic dream

    A foolish dream made of many other dreams
    A multitude of hallucinations
    Ready to make me feel a joyful fool

    I’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 night

    Hiding 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 conventions

    I write because I feel there is no other way to express my inner world
    In trivial and merry moments of my life

    Oftentimes, I wouldn’t feel any pleasure anymore
    Nor sadness, nor dread, nor longings
    For I had become nothing more than a spirit

    I floated endlessly through the enchanted woods
    Among elves and fairies whispering me secrets
    While I was feeling blissful and bewildered at the same time

    The 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 nightmares

    In my arcane heaven, illusions bloomed alongside despair
    And I would have become an impalpable and gloomy shadow
    Incapable of feeling sorrow and mirth

    I 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 mind

    I became a phantom bound to an endless twilight
    I was a creature of eternal dusk
    Fading into the hush of the night mist

    The moon cast silver woes
    In my everlasting fantasy
    Forever dissolved in nothingness.
    Elisabetta

  • A Buried Star

    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

    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

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