Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: secrets

  • The Magic Beneath Her Smile

    The Magic Beneath Her Smile

    The magic beneath her smile
    In a hush of varnished sight
    Her gaze held mine
    She was not senseless
    She was enigmatic
    A timeless masterpiece
    An eternal and sublime beauty
    As if she knew everything about me
    And all that I hadn’t yet dared to live

    Seventeen-seventeen was the arcane message
    She whispered to me in the gallery aura
    Like a cypher and a vow
    A painting is much more than a mirror
    It is the reflection of a soul into a thin surface of eternity

    The time became nineteen-nineteen
    Like wings folding back into the surface of my body
    An unlived existence was rising up from between my heart
    And it was not a fairytale or a legend
    But a secret signal and a door to another world

    Surreal fantasies became my realm
    And there I lingered silent and astonished
    Immobile like a sphinx with staring eyes
    Futile as I felt like the moments of bliss I lived in that magic kingdom of beauty and eternity
    An exquisite world where my heart beat again joyfully

    Vanity and ephemeral dreams took me to mysterious places
    Where I discovered new oddities and ancient secrets
    I wouldn’t be able to understand which spell had been cast on me
    I only knew I couldn’t resist the captivating labyrinth of arts

    The magic beneath her smile concealed arcane mysteries
    It wasn’t a prosaic artwork but a divine splendour
    Dressed in centuries of varnish
    Hid behind a shining crystal
    Surrounded by fragments of timeless magnificence.
    Lisa

  • Weeping My Heart Out

    Weeping My Heart Out

    Weeping my heart out in the abyss of the night
    While dark shadows embrace me beneath the pale moonlight made of cold sorrows
    Teardrops carve my name, descending like rivers of woe
    I drown in the ocean of nightmares and death

    The stars have ceased to weep, after staring at the moon’s indifference
    And the wind whispers all my beloved secrets
    Singing the anguish that I keep in my treasure chest
    In my garden of grief where midnight rose

    Weeping my heart out in the stillness of a silent night
    When silence and sorrow prom together
    Echoing through the hollow halls of my soul
    And leaving imprints of longing and grief

    The dawn doesn’t dare to graze my tear-stained face
    Because I belong to the clasp of perpetual twilight
    I’m my weakness and chaos of catastrophe
    Being myself the most intemperate tragedy

    I’m darkness and night
    I’m an ethereal creature of the eternal darkness
    An extravagant flower glowing in the gloomy wilderness
    I love to disappear in the most remote places of my imagination

    Weeping my heart out, I find myself in a meadow of deception
    Where I cannot discern anymore what is real from what is delusion
    Hence, I surrender to the uncertainty of my overwhelming fate
    Unaware of my future demise

    I want to avoid thinking, for I live solely through my passions
    In a frenzy of madness and lust, I become a new creature
    An ephemeral ghost bound to a doomed destiny
    Floating between ecstasy and oblivion

    I take delight in dancing with the spectres of my forsaken desires
    Their strokes ignite flames upon my pale skin
    The night sky swallows the forbidden nectar of my tears
    While I vanish into the chasm of my own longings

    No sunrise will encounter me and no dusk will mourn me
    For I belong to the stillness of the midnight’s embrace
    As I become a shadow lost in the labyrinth of time
    A withering shade, devoured by the void within me.
    Elisabetta

  • Crying To Death

    Crying To Death

    Crying to death until I lose all my fears
    Crying to death until my heart bleeds the last drop of grief
    I don’t remember my name anymore
    I come from a faraway realm where dreams are forbidden
    I wander astray in the labyrinth of my bleeding heart

    Not anymore comforted by solace and delight
    I strive to find refuge in my secret realm of illusions
    Because I love to lie to myself with shameless boldness
    Because I love to fill my heart with deception

    I’m untamed and wild, and I don’t bow to any convention
    It’s impossible to fit my soul inside a box of comfort
    Too many thoughts crowd my mind
    Too many emotions crowd my heart
    I’m a paroxysm, a burst of madness wrapped in the quietness of my sorrow

    I love to wear exclusively beautiful vintage-style dresses and ballerinas
    I love to wear red lipstick and red nail polish
    I never cut my long blond hair because they keep my little secrets for years discretely
    I love books but sometimes I keep them closed as if I would like to guess what is going to happen next in the story

    I mainly write night and day and I cannot see myself not writing even a day
    That would be like asking me not to breathe
    I suffer in silence when I am home alone so nobody can discover it
    I never plan what I’m going to write because I believe in improvisation in poetry
    I love cloudy skies but not the rain because it makes me feel miserable

    I love to be in love but I also love to be loved and adored
    Solitude and books are my best companions, indeed the only ones
    I adore art in all its forms, music, literature and art
    Sometimes I prefer to write in a direct way and simple style without labyrinths of metaphors

    Crying to death is a way to express myself when I’m suffering unbearably
    And when I don’t feel understood and seen by the other creatures of this planet or when memories come to visit me
    After all, we suffer mainly because of indifference or tainted interactions with other entities or because of something we don’t want to remember

    I feel like an alien creature not belonging to standard society and as an introvert it’s very difficult being part of this messed ocean where I never felt comfortable. So bizarre and odd I’m in the other’s sight that I cannot blend with them.
    Therefore, I dwell in my loneliness where I have built my castle of dreams.
    Elisabetta

  • Torments Are My Delight

    Torments Are My Delight

    Torments are my delight and bliss
    I love to feel a pang piercing my heart
    I love to pine for love devotionally
    I live only in my dreams like a fairy
    Flying lightly from one flower to another one

    I’m an ethereal creature belonging to phantasmagorias
    I’m a little spirit of the night
    My heart is avid of passions and desires
    In my secret garden of lush and extravagance
    Torments are my solace and mirth

    My fate is a turmoil of unknown chaos
    Not paying attention to my fears
    I live carelessly as every day is my last day
    My senses are intoxicated by the scent of extravagant flowers
    And let my body surrender to lust in my haven of lush

    I wear an exquisite and magnificent gown made of tragedy
    My ethereal wings carry me everywhere I wish
    In sadness, I find refuge under the shadows of ancient trees
    In joy, I relish pursuing my dreams of oddities
    Safety is not my favourite word in the dictionary because I adore nightmares

    Every night, I crave to be consumed by the passion of my darkest fantasies
    In the darkness, I burn with the desire to be pierced by agony
    Gloomy shadows whisper my name, enticing me closer
    As I feel an ecstatic pain, I hesitate to surrender
    I’m so lost in the euphoria of torment’s kiss

    Each sigh of mine is like a melody of forbidden delights
    When pleasure and pain entwine in an endless embrace
    I welcome the darkness as its touches are so exquisite and deep
    I become a creature made of fire and fiery lust
    A blaze burns my heart at every stroke

    Every kiss carves a searing scar of longing on my skin
    As a reminder of the desires consuming me whole
    And in the flames, I’m reborn like a blooming blossom
    Torments are my delight and I surrender to the sweet agony of my lusts.
    Elisabetta

  • Ecstatic Beauty

    Ecstatic Beauty

    Ecstatic beauty reigned in frenzies and storms
    In the castle of dreams, magnificence was shrouded in the mist of mystery
    A sanctuary of shining stars and dark shadows
    A throne of sagas and lost kingdoms
    Where secrets lingered in the silence of forgotten ages

    Listening to the melody of silence under the shadows of an ancient tree
    I rose from my slumber, thinking about my crushed dreams
    It was like my heart stopped pounding
    And I could feel pins of dismay piercing it
    Suddenly, I realised that I was a doll made of rags

    I was no longer in the material world of reality
    I was in a utopia that had the scent of nightmares
    The ecstatic beauty of my fantasies was disappearing
    Instead, I was surrounded by an overwhelming stillness
    While a suffocating silence pressed against my chest

    The colourful shades that once tinted my dreams faded into ashen hues
    And the aura was filled with regrets
    I felt the heft of forgotten longings
    As if the very ground beneath me was swallowing every fragment of my soul
    The dreams that once ignited my spirit now seemed distant luminaries

    All the stars were lost in the vast and endless abyss
    And I was alone, surrounded by fears and uncertainties
    The cold breeze that was once gentle now howled like an anguished wail
    Becoming the messenger of voices that had long since been hushed
    I strived to reach for something but I could only grasp the emptiness

    No ecstatic beauty was there anymore
    Indeed, it was a souvenir of the dreams I could never touch
    The darkness stretched endlessly
    Wrapping itself around me
    A cloak of gloom I could not escape

    In this realm, where no answer could have been found
    Only enigmas were echoing in the quietness
    And in that startling silence, I realized that my castle of dreams had crumbled to dust
    And I was just a forgotten soul left to wander its ruins.
    Elisabetta

  • Flames and Stars

    Flames and Stars

    Flames and stars glazed perpetually in the realm of fire,
    Where only passions were found to blossom like crimson roses,
    With an ethereal colour and texture typical of eternal love.

    Beneath the canopy of twilight’s embrace, flames and stars swirled,
    Like feathers of fire dancing upon a sea of shadows,
    Their sighs murmured secrets that burned and blurred,
    In the rapture of night where eternity forever glows.

    The atmosphere was full of the scent of scorched desire,
    As tongues of flame entwined in a fevered caress,
    Consuming all that dared to venture higher,
    Into the inferno’s kiss, where both agony and bliss blended.

    And there, amidst the fire’s ravenous roar,
    The stars bled silver blood drops, caught in a fevered trance,
    Mirroring the desires who burned forevermore,
    In the madness of a love’s doomed dance.

    Their light wept gently, and yet it did not die,
    But melded with the flames to forge a world anew,
    Where the ashes of dreams soared to the sky,
    And hearts blazed bright, as if reborn and true.

    In that realm, no dawn could break the night’s spell,
    No winds could extinguish the ardour’s searing flames,
    For here, love’s conflagration would forever dwell,
    A kingdom where passion and pain were one and the same.

    And so, flames and stars wandered, lost within an exquisite blaze,
    Their shadows cast upon the molten ground,
    Their hearts ignited in love’s fevered haze,
    Where every beat echoed a relentless, haunting sound.

    The firestorm reached out like frantic arrows,
    Grasping at the starlit veil above,
    Yearning to escape the searing lands,
    But forever bound by the weight of love.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Silent Room

    The Silent Room

    The Silent Room
    by Esther Elizabeth Racah

    In the silent room where time had lost its way,
    Faint sighs stirred the dusty air.
    Furniture draped in a forgotten grey,
    While shadows lingered, fading in despair.

    The clock’s hands rested in a frozen trance,
    Its pendulum still, mid-arc and paused.
    Sunlight filtered through a dim expanse,
    Casting shapes where silence caused.

    Curtains hung in tattered, faded folds,
    Once vibrant hues were now dulled and cold.
    A chair with threads of age-old gold—
    Vacant, though its tales were bold.

    Walls absorbed the stories of the past,
    Depicting moments long passed by.
    Unspoken secrets held fast
    In the hush where memories lie.

    The dust had settled on forgotten tomes,
    Books whose pages faded to air—
    Their tales were lost in abandoned homes,
    Their words dissolved in silent despair.

    The aura grew heavy with lingering weight,
    Of cries and songs that faded away.
    The silent room remained in the still estate,
    A portrait of ghosts held in sway.

    Cobwebs laced the corners with care,
    Delicate threads in dim light clung.
    Suspended in languid air,
    A monument to decay’s tongue.

    The phantom chimes of a dead clock
    Marked time in a place untouched by change.
    Shadows stretched in twisting mock,
    In this stillness, life seemed estranged.

    The room held its breath in a heavy pause,
    A space where past silence was sung.
    Echoes of old, forgotten applause
    Hung in the air where emptiness clung.

    Every corner harboured a secret past,
    Whispers of voices long since gone.
    The silence stretched, vast and vast,
    In this room where, time was withdrawn.

    The walls echoed with a distant sigh,
    Forgotten reveries of days gone by.
    In this void where nothing could reply,
    Only silence reigned beneath the sky.

  • The Swamp Of Fear

    The Swamp Of Fear

    The swamp of fear and dismay,
    A realm of no escape and no hope,
    Where nightmares ruled slumber
    And hypnosis betrayed ingenuity.

    Idiotic mirrors cast spells over the crowd of senseless ghosts,
    Deprived of every speck of wisdom,
    Wandered in the darkness without a reference,
    Believing the lie as truth.

    Sour tears fell upon the garden of obliviousness,
    A place of refuge for those who sought to destroy memories,
    Confident that the pain would disappear,
    As a vanishing dream in the valley of grief.

    But the shadows only deepened,
    And the weight of forgotten sorrow lingered still.
    In the labyrinth of shattered dreams,
    Each step carried the echoes of forgotten screams.

    Unseen needles pulled at the strings of consciousness,
    Twisting reality into grotesque shapes,
    Ghouls bled into nightmares.
    In the distance, a phantom bell tolled,
    Ringing for the lost souls who kneeled before oblivion.
    They whispered prayers to a silent void,
    Sought release, yet were trapped in endless woe.
    The fog of despair thickened,
    The swamp of fear swallowed all light.

    And the stars themselves flickered out,
    As if extinguished by unseen forces.
    Through tangled vines of despair,
    The withering winds howled secrets untold.

    And the void, cold and indifferent,
    Watched over the endless night of the forsaken.
    Faint glimmers of false hope flickered,
    Only to be swallowed whole
    By the ever-hungry void.

    In this realm where time did not exist,
    The living and dead became entangled,
    Their souls entwined in a dance
    Of eternal unrest.

    The swamp of fear stretched further,
    Claiming all that wandered near.
    In the end, nothing remained
    But relics of forsaken entities
    And dreams that had turned to dust.

    In the suffocating dark,
    A silent scream drowned in the abyss,
    And the cursed lantern faded,
    Leaving nothing but shadows,
    As the swamp of fear spread across an eternity,
    And all sank into oblivion.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • A Secret Doom

    A Secret Doom

    A Secret Doom,
    Cracks spread like nightmares across the pale sky of dusk,
    Twisting through the bones of the earth, splitting it wide,
    As secrets, dark and festering, rise from forgotten graves.
    Whispers drip from shadows unseen, crawling through the air,
    A doom long carved in echoes, unspoken yet unavoidable,
    An invisible weight pressing down on the heart of the world.
    Each breath tastes of ruin, sharp as the edge of a knife,
    A phantom’s regret lingers in every corner of the mind.

    Beneath the surface of the soil, something stirs, something waits,
    A hidden truth buried deep, locked within the marrow of the earth,
    Its presence was felt in the tremble of leaves, in the shiver of wind,
    As the sky darkens with dread and the stars turn cold.
    Eyes close, but visions remain, burning behind the lids,
    Fingers grasp at the air, tearing at the unseen veil of reality,
    But nothing holds—the void laughs softly,
    A quiet madness that hums beneath the skin,
    Invisible threads of fate weaving a pattern of despair.

    A secret doom spins its web, each strand a tale of forgotten sorrow,
    Tangled in the fabric of existence, in the very core of being,
    Where chaos reigns, and reason falls away into oblivion.
    Nothing remains but the endless fall, the plunge into the unknown,
    Where no ground waits beneath, only the infinite descent,
    Into the crushing weight of emptiness, a hollow pit of eternity.
    In this place, secrets and doom entwine,
    Feeding on the darkness, growing stronger,
    Until only the echoes remain, fading into nothingness,
    Lost in the void where all is forgotten, and all is lost.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Betrayed Dreams

    Betrayed Dreams

    Betrayed dreams were trapped in a dim chasm where fates were doomed.
    Whispered tales revealed fate’s cruel descent.
    Beneath the moon’s cold, watchful gaze,
    Lay the past where hopes had died.

    In twilight’s hush, the atmosphere grew eerie,
    As dark secrets began to whirl.
    Dreams once woven with silver threads,
    Turned pale and dim, cold and dead.

    In forgotten rooms where laments wept,
    Silent murmurs invoked dreams and illusions.
    Through the misty veils of sorrow’s shroud,
    Wandering ghouls summoned long-lost regrets.

    In a garden wild with brambles and thorns,
    Where happiness and brightness once had rambled,
    Stood a phantom, cold and stark,
    Guarding the graves of dreams now dark.

    Waves of delight faded, turning into wails,
    In the dark night where truth had been belied.
    Promises shattered like fragile crystal,
    In the shadows of a tarnished past.

    In cobbled roads beneath the fog,
    Lay the remnants of melancholic memories.
    Once hopeful verses now turned to dust,
    In the silence, everything had disintegrated.

    The clock hands moved in mournful time,
    Marking the end of each hope’s chime.
    In the stillness of the darkness, remembrances stirred,
    Of betrayed dreams, now gone, forsaken.

    The fire’s warmth, now cold and dim,
    The light of hope was no longer trimmed.
    In the ashes of what once had gleamed,
    Lay the remnants of betrayed dreams.

    In twilight’s arms, where shadows slumbered,
    Lay the legend of dreams that had once lived in the labyrinth of imagination.
    In the garden of whispered winds and silent screams,
    Shadows danced upon the traces of bygone dreams.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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