Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: shadow self

  • Castaway’s Desires

    Castaway’s Desires

    Castaway’s desires enticed me in the long winter nights, when the frozen branches of hollow trees caressed me softly, as they needed to approach my body.

    The scent of burning candles devoured my enthusiasm and reminded me only of my hopeless misery. An everlasting burning desire strove to swallow my heart greedily like an invisible demon.

    My insensitive inertia shattered my soul into pieces and I let the devastation take advantage of me. I was born to dissolve and to perish an infinite number of times in endless ways.

    Frenzy and turmoil were my loyal guides like flaming torches in the deepest darkness, and they offered me their improper wisdom. I felt alive only because I embodied the distress that consumed me, leaving me in flames.

    Indeed, it was true that scorching passion sometimes might have let me fall in love with things that destroyed, and that was what penetrated every part of me.

    I was made of fire and glaze surrounded by the cold mist of my dark chamber where dimly lit candles were my only merriment.

    The sweet screams of the night recalled to me who I really was. Obsession carved my vein instilling a tainted poison instead of blood. I became a creature of the realm of shadows and wraiths.

    I was consumed by my own fantasies and foolish hallucinations. I had become the queen of frenzy among my lost memories of worlds which I once belonged to.

    No mortal entity could see me because I was visible only to creatures of my own. There was no transformation in my staticity.

    I could perceive the manifestation of my own tempest, like a tiny vessel in a stormy sea. Lost in the labyrinth of my dreams and dread, I was unable to discover the existence beyond time.

    The great mystery of seeking my reflection in the immense mirror of life made me realise my nothingness. There was no end and there was no beginning but merely a vague silence clinging to me like luscious ivy.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Fluster And Frenzy

    Fluster And Frenzy

    Fluster and frenzy
    My guardian ghouls
    They came to rescue me
    During a dreadful slumber
    I felt frozen shadows all over me
    It was magical and startling
    Nevertheless, the fear came to me
    I was wandering, lonely and vulnerable
    They were chasing me in the dead of night
    I could hear their steps behind me
    But I couldn’t discern a shadow from a glimmering star
    As the clouds had overwhelmed the night sky
    While the moon had vanished quietly

    Wherever I attempted to proceed
    I couldn’t find a portal through which to flee from that abode
    My gown, adorned with crimson roses and snow, looked after me silently
    The creatures of the underworld traced my every movement
    It seemed to me that I was mesmerised by their spells
    While a chain of thorns entwined my body like a metallic vine
    I was an evanescent creature, dissolving into the abyss of decay and despair
    Under the indifferent gaze of the stars, cold and leaden

    Soft snowflakes were falling all over me
    Kissing my weary and fragile skin
    Trembling and sobbing, I had to face my fears and my merciless fate
    No refuge was granted to me
    No lovely embrace was going to welcome me
    I had lost all my hopes, and my longings were reduced to ashes
    I was condemned to wander endlessly in an abyss of gloom
    Where I completely vanished, and no memories of my existence were left
    Fluster and frenzy were no longer my guardian demons, but the ominous and frightening facets of myself

    How could I have deceived myself so recklessly?
    How could I have allowed myself to surrender to demise?
    It was so vicious to admit that I had sunk into oblivion ominously
    Moreover, my name had been erased from the mortal realm
    My longing for oblivion had unexpectedly taken shape
    I was ensnared by the oddities I had forged within myself
    They swallowed my heart each time I was overwhelmed by an intense passion
    I had become the creator of my own descent
    Each flame of desire had turned into a thorn of yearning, binding me with devout cruelty
    Nothing could have been halted anymore
    I was destined to obliteration.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Melancholic Discomfort

    Melancholic Discomfort

    Melancholic discomfort was a mirror to my soul. Dead leaves fell with sadness. Sorrow grasped dreams and delight. The abyss of nothingness extended its boundaries. Delusional visions became gloomy shadows. Portals of darkness were sources of uncertainty. Illusion was reality but not anymore. Distances become journeys to surreal realms. Deceitful hopes were invisible traps

    Silence hushed me as an imperious order. There was no prophecy able to entangle my fate. Everything was distorted and hypnotising. Obsessions clutched my heart with nails and quills. The horizon was shrouded in haze. Only darkness was guiding me in a labyrinth of bitterness and revenge. I saw squalor swallowing magnificence. I heard the screams of joy of demented fools. Their claws were embedded in precious paintings

    At night I woke up overwhelmed by the moans of pain and dread. It was the visitation of those who had no voice. So many times, I wished to keep my heart in oblivion. But it was never the case. They came and their poison penetrated into my heart. I kept myself faraway from each one of them. At the end, my dreams had opened my eyes and I saw everything.

    It was too late and too soon. Time had no sense anymore. Nothing made sense anymore. Everything had become a dark nightmare. There was no escape. There was no salvation. I had been punished for having seen too much. Beyond any imagination. As if nature could have welcomed me to another realm. Where I was free from other mediocrity chains.

    The mist enveloped me, as if it wanted to protect me from seeing things that would dishearten and hurt me. I had been shamelessly emulated by horrible ghouls who scrutinised me with envious and treacherous eyes. Copycats who used my lipstick-red shade strove to reproduce my portraits in a grotesque, ridiculous style.

    Mediocrity and corruption wanted me to hush, because I had revealed their appalling secrets. But the wind was my ally and it brought my words to all the domains. My heart has been shattered and devastated. I had become a shell of myself. I couldn’t recognise my countenance in the silvery surface of cynical mirrors. I had no dreams anymore because I had lost any desire to return to my fantastical journey.

    I was just a shell of myself, a ghost devoid of every hope to find the delights in a lugubrious existence. Touching the gelid walls of a house made of memories and bones, I was reminded of the several losses, demises and vaults, which were entangled in my heart. I had lost everything that was very dear to me in an indissoluble manner.

    I felt a melancholic discomfort like sharp nails piercing my heart, and an absence of noise, as if I had already vanished before parting. Long nights expired slowly, as though they didn’t want to leave space for the daylight. I was annoyed at the thought of seeing clumsy and mediocre beings wallowing in a world filled with cornucopias and treasure chests.

    I constantly felt like a creature condemned to see what I didn’t want to see. Squalor, venality, superficiality, and idiocy were served on platters of gold and gems as jewels of admiration and wisdom. I felt so disoriented and emptied of all my desires and dreams that I didn’t even know what I wished to accomplish anymore with my copious dreams in a tragic existence.

    All my anguished thoughts turned into raw, unfiltered words. The sense of deep disappointment had disarmed me and I no longer knew what to do. Countless times I had lost myself and never found that part of me that had faded into oblivion. Lacklustre, shallow, and ostentatious mortals had shamelessly disconcerted me.

    Their grimaces in front of the cameras and idiotic poses had dominated the scene along with their bottles of luxurious perfumes, their exorbitant chocolates, and their sumptuous jewels. I saw marionettes devoid of any decency, which were crowned queens of a fallen kingdom made of corrupted remnants and the dust of wickedness. 

    I sat under a dead tree in the garden of disillusions, I was already exhausted by a profusion of daring adventures, feeling that I was no longer capable of moving forward. I had given up in the face of the devastation and desecration of beauty and art. I didn’t want to be part of that assembly that reeked of disintegration and decay pit.

    But at the same time, I felt helpless because I could not save what had been cruelly torn away from me. My shattered heart stopped beating and turned into a heavy stone that made me fall into the abyss of nightmares. A fatal slumber had captured me, and I wept for the lack of dreams.

    The melancholy of the memories of what I lost overwhelmed me like a stormy sea. I felt helpless in the face of a tsunami of catastrophic events that had infested my life. I didn’t want to know anything anymore. I didn’t want to feel anything anymore. I didn’t want to love anything anymore.

    I locked myself in a refuge of perpetual silence, shunning everything that had damaged and scarred me. Every form of bliss had been relinquished since I had become a shadow in a world that didn’t belong to me any longer. I shunned the realm of degradation and profanity.

    I had embodied all the despairs and struggles that had chased me, now that I was a shadow in a realm of darkness and doom. Dressed in fragments of forgotten beauty, I wandered aimlessly as if fate had abandoned me. A gentle breeze of restlessness and sadness enveloped me, as if to remind me that I still had a heart.

    The hiss of loneliness was the only sound that constantly accompanied me. At the same time, I could not find a horizon or a destination to follow. I had regained myself by losing myself in the void, with the hope of forgetting everything that had erased me. I vanished like an evanescent cloud at twilight just before the eternal night came to announce its hegemony.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • An Evanescent Bliss

    An Evanescent Bliss

    An evanescent bliss came to me in my nocturnal dreams. It was like a bright flame that burned my heart, and I cherished it as a precious jewel. Although I knew it was just an ephemeral fantasy, it was my only treasure to live for. Until the day when my mirrors fractured, and truth became a deception.

    So much dismay was inside my frail heart that I couldn’t realise I was still alive. Nevertheless, I wasn’t able to admit my loss. I was still willing to embrace illusions and to ignore forgery. And, at the end, I saw everything that was lying behind my imagination.

    In a decrepit and dusty attic, I found chests of ambrosial delights laced with poison. They were there, on purpose, just to attract attention, but their intent was lethal. They were glad to offer delightful winks of bliss and joy in exchange for souls.

    I lost my euphoria, and every thrill of ecstasy faded away. My mirrors revealed hidden secrets to my heart. I had to encounter my dreads, and the truth I didn’t wish to disclose. Candies tasted bitter and toxic. My heart was tainted with venom and revenge. Turmoil devoured my heart and turned me into a scarlet rose.

    My misery transformed into chaos and resentment. I embodied the dismay that enclosed me. I became a victim of my own naivety, and it was too late to remove those toxic emotions from my heart. What had teased me at first was now haunting me nastily.

    I had to touch the emptiness to feel the darkness inside me. Dreadful enchantments enticed me like familiar spells. I sank into the abyss of sadness, desiring to become eternal and infinite. Grief was engraved in my heart, and I completely forgot every kind of evanescent bliss.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • My Enchanted Nights

    My Enchanted Nights

    My enchanted nights passed one by one, like creatures perishing and being reborn, melting into a single, unique, and everlasting night. I fell in love, time and again, with monsters in the guise of magnificent and exquisite angels. I spent my endless nights casting spells and magic upon mortal spirits.

    I felt enraged and resentful as my heart was pounding in all its fury, like a winter storm at full might. My scorched heart had been repeatedly broken and torn into fragments of darkness. I cried and wailed in vain into the emptiness of the nocturnal sky, where I couldn’t see any stars.

    I was dressed in dismay and grief, while the shadows of my beloved darkness wrapped me in their ethereal veil. I beseeched all the ghosts of my imaginary realm to set me free from the anguish and pangs I was condemned to bear in my sorrowful heart.

    In my enchanted nights, I was intoxicated by magic potions and mystic spells, wondering if there was some manner to flee my infamous fate, unsure as I felt myself in that absolute silence that enveloped me inexorably.

    Hindered by enchanting melodies and beguiling rhymes that echoed in my mind, I became a part of the magical maelstrom that dragged me into the abyss of swoon and oblivion. I had metamorphosed into a creature that was beyond the rule of the mortal world.

    My enchanted nights imbued me with chaos and stardust, inducing me to fall apart and renounce all the dreams I once cherished in my heart. So much was I doused with poison and witchcraft that I had forsaken my anguish.

    I had always been tormented by dreadful premonitions, as I was doomed to perish in decay and obliteration. My bygone, enchanted nights, made of glimmering stars, were nothing but faraway reveries.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • The Collapse Of My Haunted Illusions

    The Collapse Of My Haunted Illusions

    The collapse of my haunted illusions began the night of my fall into the dark chasm of my fears, where I was tormented by relentless thorns and shadows that pierced my heart until its light slowly faded.

    My soul was burning fiercely, and I could hear the screams of my dreams, alive and breathing, willing to get the last essence of my foolishness. I bore tormented scars cherishing my grief and sorrow. All in the while of my transformation and decay.

    I was reborn and perished oftentimes, as long as my heart was struck by the many thunders of madness and self-deception. Everything could have obliterated me in the valley of despair and grief.

    I was bound to the chains of the deserted version of myself and obscure presages. The fate surrendered at the sight of the tower of my solitude, where I was the only captive in the presence of wraiths made of tragic illusions.

    My tragedy was an everlasting and bright gift, like a hidden treasure. I knew not what could be expected beyond the several doors that kept me locked up. I could have cried all night long and no phantom would have heard me.

    My tears were pearls descended on my neck like graceful raindrops, glimmering on my skin. While obsessive fears were swallowing my soul, and as much as I might run, they hunted me wherever I wandered during my endless bleak nights.

    Loneliness was retaining me as a creature of its own realm. And the steadiness of silence besieged my delusional abode. My heart, subdued in sorrow, cast faint shadows that traced sacred shapes upon the frigid soil.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Dreams Of Oblivion

    Dreams Of Oblivion

    Dreams of oblivion darkened my sleep.
    They were like palliatives for my searing pain,
    numbing my heart and soothing—
    If only for a moment—
    My spasms of fear.

    My disappointments had become like cobwebs woven inside my heart,
    darkening every joy, even the smallest.
    Ultimately, I had not chosen my fate,
    and I groped in the dark uncertainty,
    trying to understand where I was and who I was.

    The disdain and aloofness that oozed from the faces of mortals who had crossed my miserable existence
    had transformed me into a silent, sombre shadow
    whose image did not appear in any mirror.

    In my dreams of oblivion and madness, mediocre monsters that sought to tear me apart
    appeared menacingly in the realm I tried to protect and keep as mine.
    Their intrusion was truly an act of violence.
    Their intent to destroy me was the source of my fears.

    Ancient dusty clocks tolled the time, which always seemed the same.
    The dust of decay and sorrow fell upon me like a heavy rain,
    covering me completely and turning me into an invisible shell.

    Watchful and evanescent veils covered me, so as not to show me the harsh reality whose injustice and squalor could have tainted the integrity of my heart. And my attempt to awaken from that stupor mixed with despair was in vain.

    I was about to become oblivion.
    I was about to become my dreams.
    I was about to become an ephemeral, evanescent creature,
    almost invisible and nonexistent,
    that no mortal of the common reality
    could have seen with their limited gaze
    shrouded in prejudice.
    I was about to become an ephemeral, evanescent creature,
    almost invisible and nonexistent,
    that no mortal of the common reality
    could have seen with their limited gaze
    shrouded in prejudice.

    Perhaps I myself was an illusion,
    perhaps I had become a utopia or a chimaera.
    The devastating pain had transformed me
    and erased every trace of my mortality.
    Elisabetta

  • So It Was A Night

    So It Was A Night

    So it was a night a lonely light where the sky was covered in clouds and all the shades of blue
    surrounded by silent statues whose stares seemed looking at me but in reality, they just didn’t see me. My loneliness was my only dwelling to create another version of myself. I was crying tears of blood, shame and regret. I felt confused, and at the same time, I had the certitude that I would never belong to the world of mortals. I accepted the fact that I never understood and accepted the worldly rules and conventions as I was a creature of my own.

    It was just night when I realised all the decadence of my existence like an ancient statue living off the ancient memories of its previous life without any hesitation and doubt. And so I approached the mirror of my soul where I couldn’t see any image reflected. It was like I was without the soul, and it was because my heart was too broken to be alive. Being always surrounded by beauty and decay I realised my demise. I strived to accept my ephemeral  dimension and abide by being invisible like a small stone in a huge ocean of confusion.

    I knew that every delight and joy did not belong to me, but only sorrow and distress. All I could do was dream. Dreaming and lamenting my miserable life was my delight.  I felt like in a cage, an invisible cage that just made me imperceptible to the sight of everyone. I was just a shadow, a spirit of the night of the terminal darkness where only other ghosts and spirits could perceive my presence. So I was condemned ultimately to a place between dream and death. I was not sure that I was alive. I could not understand since I got lost in the labyrinth of my fate.

    So it was a night, an eternal night. There was no more sunrise or sundown. The sun vanished in the emptiness, and the horizon was so dark that it seemed to be made as an abyss of gloominess. I wondered terminally without finding a refuge of hope and happiness. Tired as I was, and exhausted from my life, I had to face my condition as irreversible and doomed. So it was a night, my eternal night the end of my suffering, and the beginning of the perpetual void. Deprived of light and desire.
    Elisabetta

  • Mirrors And Dreams

    Mirrors And Dreams

    Mirrors and dreams appeared to me as I drank from the inception of the stormy night, where silence curdled into ink, and every word I swallowed appeared as a curse in my blood.

    The moon kissed my shadow, not with clemency but with remembrance. What I lost I buried in decay. What I loved I burned in darkness. Mirrors and dreams were just mere illusions.

    Silent visions visited me in my eternal nightmares as I never awakened from that realm of madness and phantasmagoria. In loneliness and unconsciousness, I wandered into the garden of desires.

    Untruthful chimaeras were my chaperones as I delighted myself in ethereal merriments and beauty. I lived in delusional fantasies as I forgot the feeling of fear.

    I only existed in poems and hymns to share my love and obsessions. Softly, the nocturnal breeze stroked my face, and I could hear a solemn and funereal melody.

    I felt invisible and ethereal, as if no mortal could have been able to perceive my presence. Indeed, I had become a spirit of the darkness; I was the shadow of my soul.

    Although my everlasting passion for the sublime and beauty never left my heart, I felt the aches and pangs of a withered flowered. Seeking stability in my rooted insanity, I had renounced the world of reality forever.

    The heartless fate had decided its decree to condemn me to the underworld and abandon every vestige of my past existence. Surrounded by mirrors and dreams, I surrendered to my hallucinations.

    The wraiths that chased me were the evocations of my terrible memories. They strived to cast a spell on me to constrain me in the dungeon of death and blood. Where no tree and no flower ever saw life.

    No mirror could recall me, no dream dared claim me.
    Elisabetta

  • Mirrors And Delusions

    Mirrors And Delusions

    Mirrors and delusions surrounded me as I wandered through a labyrinth carved from my own expectations. Each hidden niche kept a secret, and each silent sigh was a vow that dissolved in the emptiness. I strived to hold distant glimpses I could never keep, and the more I yearned, the taller the walls grew.

    Wildflowers whispered legends about betrayal and wickedness. Sadness teardrops fell over me like jet ink, leaving trails of darkness on my uncertain way. Clouds of gloom and sorrow met in the sky, feasting on the ephemeral sense of existence. My silence was my words. I had no needs or ambitions to fulfil any more because my ego was obliterated.

    Hence, it began my passage into the liminal state. My distorted reflection in the mirrors could have been the fruit of my hallucinations or the effective image of myself. Everything could have betrayed me, even myself. There was no longer a sun in the firmament of this realm of lugubrious descent. Where fallacy and degradation ruled.

    Polished crystals shone their glimmer, not to guide, but to deceive as each light was just a false oath, drawing me deeper into the hollow abyss of this maze of madness. Lonely I was never since shadows and ghosts accompanied me whenever I would wander. Their countenances were dreary and appalling.

    Mirrors and delusions hid my truth and plundered my heart of innocence and hope. They filled my route with deceit and cruel traps. I had become invisible and voiceless in their dungeon of decadence and death. I had to surrender to their power and supremacy. I wouldn’t consider myself a wisdom keeper since my insanity grew like a flower among tombstones.

    No more farewell to my dreams, for they no longer belonged to me, but to the nothingness that now bore my name.
    Elisabetta

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