Waiting for my dreams to wither like dry flowers
Constantly sinking into the oblivion of sadness and dizziness
Unaware of what could happen to my soul
Having lost every hope to save my dreams
Finding my sweet haven in my darkest grief
Slowly avoiding thinking and surrendering to the course of my vicious fate
I let the ocean waves swallow me into the chasms of unconsciousness
To avoid seeing the reflection of my memories in mirrors of shady dismay
The silence of the night lulled me to a deep slumber where I finally could feel peace and gaiety
My idle heart became a frozen stone full of sand and dust
Whilst I wandered in the desolate forest of my fears
Waiting for my dreams to be my only consolation
For I was aware of the evanescence of the stars gleaming in the night sky
Indeed, every single anguish of mine became a tiny leaf that the cold breeze lifted away from my gaze
So quickly was flowing my existence like a tumultuous river that I lost the sense of time
And I remained therefore languid in a garden without flowers or trees
A garden of darkness and shadows where no mortal could find me
My foremost hideaway in which I could flee the hideous threats from the world of reality
I didn’t pay attention to the consequences of my enchanted illusions
Dread and cynicism accompanied me at every step as unwelcome and unavoidable guests
Secrets were locked within me and only nonsense was guiding me in the eternal gloom of my seclusion
In vain I strove to reach out to the moonlight
Nevertheless, I had been cast away too far
Surrounded by nothing but loneliness and bleakness
I was left crying tears made of madness and turmoil.
Elisabetta Esther
Tag: silence
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Waiting For My Dreams
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Entangled In My Own Disquiet
Entangled in my own disquiet
I found myself in a state of confusion
Collapsing into a vortex of chaos and despair
I might have been able to overcome my fears
But I was not capable of escaping the lonelinessThere were no mirrors in my secret dwelling
Where candles and shadows were my loyal confidantes
And an absolute silence was soothing me like a soft lullaby
While my sighs hid tears of griefThinking of myself as a tiny leaf in an immense ocean
I was surrendered to fate, ready to be swallowed up in the abyss of oblivion
Lost in a turmoil of obsessions and dismayMany times I wished to escape from the labyrinth of my fantasies
But deceptions were always following my trail
I knew no serenity
Instead, I was condemned to wander endlesslyTime didn’t know me as I existed in a surreal dimension
I belonged to the realm of darkness and obliteration
And I was a victim of the impetuous winds of the long winter nightI felt the discomfort of reality
It was like wearing a sumptuous dress made of thorns and quills
I lived as a doll locked in an airtight boxNo creature could ever perceive me
No creature could ever hear my sobs and sighs
No mirror could reflect my imageI was inevitably entangled in my own disquiet
Although the stillness around me pacified my soul
I didn’t feel any urgency to rescue myself
Indeed, my drowsy heart couldn’t perceive anything anymoreI had no longing, no desire left
I’ve never been in the garden of devotion and love
I’ve always been shrouded in clouds of invisibility
Always surrounded by candles and spiderwebs
Lost in a cloud of incense and blooming night flowers
Elisabetta Esther -
Phantasmagoric Fantasies
Phantasmagoric fantasies were my kingdom of infinity and eternity
A divine refuge where I could fly freely like a fairy
Whenever the storms of fear and dismay came upon meI craved love and devotion like a thirsty blossom seeking the rain
Nevertheless, what I could find were relics of forgotten treasures and vessels of mystery
Silence was the only sound I could hear during my lonely and endless nightsMy beating heart was full of spells and illusions, trying to fill the void with silly desires
Although I had whispered my secrets to the luminaries glimmering in the night firmament
I could listen to the time ticking as it slipped like heavy raindropsThe flickering candlelight kept me warm while my heart sank in the gelid ocean of sorrow
For I was exiled to an evanescent world
Where everything was ephemeral and illusoryAs much as I clung to false hopes, nowhere was destined to ever become my beloved secluded niche
For I was fated to wander evermore without any guidance or aimQuaffing arcane potions, I fed my soul with darkness and fire
Perceiving my slow descent into the chasm of oblivion
I became a fierce sorceress willing to face any kind of hazardLost lyrics echoed in my mind as if they were fragments of my memories
The suspense of my fragility made me shiver like a delicate flower under the touch of a frosty wind
I got lost in phantasmagoric fantasies woven in my dreamsFor I was a dream myself, mesmerised by the beauty of my own imagination
Shunning the bitter truth that my broken mirrors insisted on revealing to meI had always been made of illusions, even though my broken heart persisted in loving chimaeras and ghosts, sinking into the infinite abyss of nothingness.
Elisabetta Esther -
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 -
Whimsical Chimaeras
Whimsical chimaeras blossomed in my garden of extravagant flowers and frantic trees. When the silent valley of dreams was crammed with forbidden hopes, the stars never hesitated to shine. In my delusional fantasy and secret inner world, I could be free from mortal dogmas, made of aberrant rules.
Many nights I have wandered, embracing my silliness and bizarre turmoil. Foolishness was my only state of mind, and every portal could unlock for me. I wept, and I sighed, as if it were my only way to express myself. The cold night wind hushed my aching heart, filling it with fear and torment.
The snow painted the soil with white crystalline hues, while my slumber had kept my heart from aching more copiously. I had lost the capability to listen to melodies, but all that I could hear was a fanfare chanting demise and downfall. My whimsical chimaeras had transformed into shadows and darkness.
I had become a stranger in my own realm, which I couldn’t recognise any longer at all. I felt like I was deprived of all my delusional dreams, which I considered my only comfort and sweet haven. No candied flowers or chocolate-coated leaves prospered in my garden, which was now nothing but a land of frost and thorns.
The reality had transmuted into a sharp sword, depriving me of every longing, for I had lost my strength to escape from that snare of descent. Melancholia burnt my heart, altering it into an everlasting torch. I encountered no compassion or tenderness, but pointed hooks of indifference and hatred.
My heart was wrapped in thorns and quills, and it suffered copiously. Unbearable pangs crossed my body, inflicted by misery and dismay. Shallowness was prevailing, and what appeared noisier and phonier had replaced what was pure and magnificent.
Darkness, together with the moon and the stars, was a cynical witness to every single occurrence. Silence had sealed my lips, and I was no longer able to utter a single sound. Definitely, my whimsical chimaeras were just a remote memory of my shattered mind.
I was burying my dreams and my hope a long time ago, and fell victim to my delusional fantasies and absurd expectations. I was conscious of my decadence and that I would soon embrace my final demise. In that exquisite garden of bygone flowers, I lay in wait for my very last moment of mortal essence.
Elisabetta Esther -
Sparkles Of Sadness
Sparkles of sadness manifested in the gloomy forest of my dreams. Lulled by a torpor of defeat and annihilation, I attempted to traverse a place unknown to me, with astonishment and wonder, yet, at the same time, with a heart steeped in sadness.
Although the silver moon illuminated this unknown and dark forest, the further I proceeded, the more it seemed that I was losing myself in oblivion and in the abyss of my fears and uncertainties, for it was there that I was rooted; my heart was torn by a sense of suspension into the void.
Indeed, I was overwhelmed by my nightmares, which slowly revealed themselves in the shapes of ghosts and wraiths, as I proceeded along my uncertain path without a clear destination. My gentle pains, which scourged my heart and disturbed my mind, rendered me powerless in the face of such apparitions.
Even unwillingly, I had fallen victim to a vicious and infamous game of which I was not the author. And I could not even, powerless as I was, awaken from that fatal torpor, which was defeating me every night, as well as the wind consumes even the most unyielding rock.
However much I struggled to oppose the oblivion that sought to obliterate me and erase my name, I could find no hold, no aid that might pull me out of those circumstances of affliction and decay. My heart was lacerated and it shed all my hopes like a raging cascade.
Weeping and pain were the only faithful companions that followed me everywhere. In this realm of sepulchral silence and the sighs of souls that could find no peace, I remained still, awaiting my metamorphosis.
Ghostly and drowsy, I could no longer proceed and I fell beneath the weight of my own anguish, as if it were made of gigantic, menacing clouds bearing down upon me. And thus I vanished, leaving nothing but a trail of sparkles of sadness and scarlet petals, as if I had never been born, as if no one had ever known that I had existed.
Elisabetta Esther -
The Night
The night opens my heart, made of tragedies and memories. Silence remains merely an echo of my anguish.
Sweet is the thought of losing oneself in dreams when they become eternal whispers. The subtle play of revelations and allusions is a gentle kiss of love and passion that time does not disturb.
Light and shadow merge into one another, in an absolute love. The flames of the heart feed on the solitude of the soul beneath the starlight that no longer shines to illuminate, but to recall lost memories.
Endless games between illusion and wonder hide in the darkness of light. My sorrowful and shadowed heart has fallen into the chaos of eternal torpor.
I am a volcano of fire and chaos, surrounded by shadows of anguish and restlessness. My guardians are magical crows and silent hares.
In my solitude, melancholy and confusion are my faithful spectres that never abandon me.
Drowsy and dazed, I find refuge in my silent torpor: the distorted mirrors are the signs of my resignation.
Elisabetta Esther -
Dreams And Chimaeras
Dreams and chimaeras make me forget my worries and anguish.
Surrounded by memories, broken mirrors, and interrupted cries.
I lie languid like a flower stunned by the morning dew.Silence is a sweet melody that distracts me when I no longer understand where life is leading me.
And in the night I hear the sound of loneliness like a sudden omen of abandonment and defeat.The darkness paints imaginary landscapes in my mind.
The sound of the clouds reminds me to forget my name and hang my soul upon the shadows to rest.
Leaden nightmares drag me down into the abyss of despair.Far away I can hear the screams of my fears calling out my name.
So I take the chance to follow their trail in the obsidian forest.
Where I try to find my image in mirrors that whisper to me.Murmurs of pain and betrayal appear to me as shapes of magic bliss.
In my madness, I exist as a free bird of the night.
Closed doors become gates to infinity.
Forever bound to my lack of reality.I live in the surreal chasm to which I will always belong.
Abysm and love blend like mysterious revelations.
They own my heart and my soul eternally.Imagination guides me toward the garden of illusions.
I become the most delusional creature of the realm of shadows.
Love caresses me as gently as a sharp snowflake.My heart is in an everlasting pang.
Foolishness possesses me, as I advance in my wisdom.
What I thought would have destroyed me gave me a spark of demise.I was lost and I was alive at the same time.
As an inanimate doll with a burning heart.
The nothingness stared at me in its boundless ferocity.
Elisabetta Esther -
The Emptiness Within My Mind
The emptiness within my mind
Is death inside my heart,
With no golden cage, no precious gems—
just silence folding round itself,
no escape, no hope,
Only absence holding tight.Exhausted and devoid of feeling,
I lay upon the cold earth,
strewn with withered leaves,
fallen flowers,
and shards of abandoned dreams.Weeping,
I heard the intense sound
of my tears falling
on leaves shriveled
by the cold wind of night.Nothing remained
around you,
around me,
But only the vague memory
of those anguishes
that oppressed me
and never ceased
to pursue me.I no longer held
any desire to desire,
nor to keep
anything within my heart.My heart had ceased
to be a chest
of my wishes and whims.It was merely
an empty chest,
emptied by the fury
and storms
that swept over me
In my wretched existence.Not even the stars
sparkled in the sky
above my dwelling.The heavens refused
to shine for me.Yet they had forsaken me
to my fate,
where no hope remained,
nor even a small flame
to bring me back to life.Whispers and murmurs
came to me
In the form of a misty breeze,
laden with elegies
and funeral hymns.Despair and anguish
were gifts bestowed upon me,
like dazzling joys
that in truth did not shine at all,
But bound me fast
In a realm of cruelty,
wickedness,
and mercilessness.Helpless and fragile,
like the petals of a well-bloomed flower,
I could not withstand
such impetuousness and violence of events,
so hostile to me—
like endless storms at sea
whose fury knows no end.The emptiness within my mind
had become a spirit that subdued me,
against which I could no longer resist.
At last, I became part
of the abyss of oblivion,
And there I remained for eternity,
wandering like a cloud
In a stormy, winter night.
Elisabetta -
Absolute Despair In The Heart Of The Night
Absolute despair in the heart of the night. Struggling, wrapped in the glow of the stars and surrounded by the absolute darkness of the night, in a silence so complete it deafens me and leaves me aghast.
Caught between a world of dreams and a world of reality in which I cannot find a place, I try to understand my identity, I try to understand what my heart desires, and I try to invent a world where I can live without trauma and without deception.
Searching for truth in lies and trying to conceal my feelings behind dead trees of complacency. I wander, disoriented, through the labyrinth of my dreams, which sometimes seem nightmares and at other times delightful visions.
My vanity makes me believe I can attain all that I desire, yet in truth, what I receive is always the opposite of what my heart longs to devour within itself. In vain I invoke the names of the deities of the night, struggling, weeping, and sobbing.
My voice fades into nothingness, into silence, into the torpor of my restless sleep. It was as if I could almost touch, almost grasp the emptiness with my hands, yet never gather the gems of my yearning.
Surrounded by the fleetingness of beauty and the decay of my yearning, I let myself go, I let myself go, I surrender completely to my desires, both carnal and spiritual. It is as if a mysticism had engulfed me, rendering my body immaterial.
Dazzled and dazed by the piercing brightness of the stars, I find myself in an immaterial realm, mystical and dripping with aesthetic lust and paroxysm of beauty.
I lie in anguish, in the decay of my very own shadow. I am not ashamed to express my wonder, for I regard it as a pure form of admiration and magnificence toward something my heart cannot even grasp.
Absolute despair in the heart of the night—it was but the fruit of my illusions and hallucinations. Silent, I stood like a marble statue, exposed to the harsh elements of a nocturnal storm.
Elisabetta