Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: sleepless nights

  • My Sleepless Nights

    My Sleepless Nights

    My sleepless nights made of grief and regret ensnared me in their murky web, as if to subjugate me to their languid call toward an abyss of misery and anguish. The ocean chanted an elegy for my solemn sorrow, almost as if to ceremoniously celebrate my distress. And even the birds couldn’t help but pity me as my dismay was conspicuous like the ocean waves.

    The abyss of shadows welcomed me as if I were destined to lose every wish and hope, for I felt the bitterness of my fate, whose manifestation of generosity took the form of painful anguish. From my tears grew anger and vengeance like evergreen flowers. Memories kept being unwelcome intruders, not leaving me alone even during my peaceful sleep.

    The bells of a forsaken chapel rang like spectres of the night, and I felt the solitude grasping me with its intangible strength, as if it wanted me to be part of its deserted realm of invisible and silent creatures. As I proceeded in exhaustion and haze, I couldn’t perceive the sight of the stars, which the gloomy clouds hid behind their majestic veil.

    My sleepless nights were not over yet since they had become an endless eternity made of frail dreams and broken promises. Softly the sea breeze stretched the branches of withered trees toward me like arms willing to hug me in their emptiness. A sudden rainfall caused me to lose my route and I became entangled in a secret garden.

    In vain I summoned spirits and ghosts to grant me some sort of furlough from my disastrous and tumultuous fortune, which led me to ancient ruins where no dreams were allowed to manifest, leaving me with decayed fragments of elegies that seemed like interrupted magic spells. After all I suffered in my sleepless nights, I had become darkness. And there was no beginning or end in that vast expanse full of sacred oblivion.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • The Realm of Nightmares

    The Realm of Nightmares

    The realm of nightmares, beneath the cold and silver grin of the stars,
    Treading through passages of dread,
    Where shadows writhe, and walls grow thin,
    As whispers crawl from ear to head.

    The clock unmakes each moment’s tread,
    Time drips to dust and fades away,
    The voices of the ancient dead,
    Their chilling grins lead unfortunates astray.

    A sky of crimson, decadent with ash,
    Hangs heavy over this broken realm,
    The earth beneath begins to thrash,
    As claws reach up through cursed sand.

    Wandering through the realm of nightmares,
    Locked away in endless nights,
    Where every step, each haunted lair,
    Steeped in sorrow, drenched in fright.

    No solace here, no peace of mind,
    In this dark realm, the soul’s alone,
    Where horrors bloom grotesque, unkind,
    And terror sinks deep to the bone.

    A scream escapes, but silence reigns,
    A ghostly sound that’s never heard,
    While stars above ignite with flames,
    And burn away the final remark.

    With every moment, the walls collapse,
    The floor beneath bends and snaps,
    The realm of nightmares, vast and infinite,
    No start, no end—just shattered maps.

    The trees are twisted, black and bare,
    Their limbs reach out with claws of spite,
    From their breath, bitter winds ensnare,
    Extinguishing the newborn light.

    No dawn will come to end this storm,
    No morning’s grace to chase the gloom,
    For in the realm of nightmares, no light takes form,
    And shadows haunt each quiet room.

    Eyes burn like coals in masks grim,
    Their gaze, the deepest, darkest dread,
    And though they wear a thousand shrouds,
    Not one of them was indeed dead.

    They form from phantoms, born of fear,
    Each nightmare weaves from horror’s thread,
    Their breath, the wind; their voice sings clear,
    Of sleepless nights and waking dread.

    The ground below turns into clay,
    It pulls all down into its strand,
    Where darkness swallows the light of day,
    And reason cracks like brittle sand.

    Falling, falling—there is no end,
    No waking from this cursed blight,
    For in the realm of nightmares, the rules will bend,
    And all are trapped in endless nights.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Echo Of A Broken Dream

    The Echo Of A Broken Dream

    The echo of a broken dream
    Is the sky’s vast light
    Which is rising in winter’s rain
    From the flight of little birds
    A song to drink and dance
    It can be heard faraway
    Thinking about time and failure
    So short life to regret
    Unending and unlimited endeavours for life’s delight
    When dreams come
    What might be lost could be found
    But long is the path of mistakes and struggles
    Never well-known enough to prevent distress and anguish
    In sleepless nights something and nothing has been revealed
    It always began the creation
    Destroying and creating
    By chance and love
    Like no more devotion would be granted like before
    Each thought of desire would be loyal and engraved
    Reading the infinite source of darkness
    And still enjoying every strive and pang
    In the hope of living inside an untamed soul
    Never like before
    It would become a gloomy and arduous heart

    The echo of a broken dream
    The sea of darkness is blasting
    Now that the night has come
    Harkening to the wind
    Whenever the wildness of the sea is fearless and indomitable
    The fallen souls have drifted into a slumber time
    Sighing along the cliff of the abyss
    Never seen to this day what it might not be quested
    A beautiful forsaken tale would be a lavish obscure dream
    A wonder and a marvel
    Sunken down into a remote universe
    Since the eternity
    It has always been there for me
    And always will be
    With no guesses or questions about life
    I fell down into the chasm of the time
    When it is believed to cast away the darkness and shadows
    With the loss of eternity
    Whilst everything was bound together inside a hidden and blissful oasis
    Every kind of dream was being offered like some joyful lie
    Sweet like poison and bitter like truth
    Like those revelations that will never be disclosed
    And desires would be offered as secret snares

    The echo of a broken dream
    Which lived forever in the abysm of the sea
    And was made of divine light
    New eternal dimensions are recreated
    The vision of a single and lonely night
    The world would start all over again and again
    Until all the clouds of darkness would end
    And the wonders of harmony and hymns would be created
    The world’s clout will last forever
    Truly and devotedly
    Days depart and perish
    Every longing will convey a new route of deception and authenticity
    Change delivers wisdom in the everlastingness
    When only one new lifetime is allowed to become true
    Love is death, love is untamed, love is betrayal, and love is life
    Being trapped in a new belief
    Acting to set free every uncoveted desire inside the soul
    And wishing to find a place in the universe
    If everything could materialise in an abode with faithful devotion
    There would be only bliss and an ever-lasting delight in life
    Certitude and suspicion could obliterate each other
    Probity and passion would be devoted eternally

    The echo of a broken dream
    Stalled so perfectly in my mind and once more disappeared
    As forgotten for ages
    Such a feeling of authentic dismay
    I disclosed the evening
    Lingering for darkness and nightmares
    A soft touch of sharp thorns
    Although pain and tears could flood my heart
    So many times
    I have been destined
    And magnificence would be a journey of delight and bliss
    Nothing else
    After my soul wandered lost in torment and misery
    With no more passion
    Dreaming that in a swoon
    My heart would always glow
    Not at all because of pleasure
    But striving to return to its primordial harmony.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Sleepless Nights

    The Sleepless Nights

    The Sleepless Nights

    Long are the sleepless nights that I spend alone writing and dreaming about absurdities
    Surrounded by books and scribbled notes scattered around the house
    I wonder how much my life is real
    Since it is mainly made of poetry, writings, books and music
    Solitude is my constant companion
    I live in my bubble of segregation
    Nevertheless, I cannot live without music, art, poetry and that deep ache in my soul
    Having to keep dark secrets
    On the sleepless nights, I might write my poetry only for myself
    Feeling like no one on this planet will ever read me
    Every day I pretend to be patient and wait
    Most of the time, I feel the most invisible creature in the world
    With traumatic experiences and terrible abuses
    I had to endure in silence and loneliness with infinite strength.
    Esther Racah

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