Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: solitude

  • 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

  • Entangled In My Own Disquiet

    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 loneliness

    There 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 grief

    Thinking 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 dismay

    Many 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 endlessly

    Time 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 night

    I 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 box

    No creature could ever perceive me
    No creature could ever hear my sobs and sighs
    No mirror could reflect my image

    I 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 anymore

    I 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

  • Love Like A Sweet Poison

    Love Like A Sweet Poison

    Love like a sweet poison seeped into the heart, and time no longer existed in the realm of the eternal night. Passion burned as an everlasting flame and it altered into eternal desire.

    A tenacious devotion was rooted in a ground made of ice and stardust. And I stood among crimson roses and the nocturnal mist, under the sight of an eerie moon.

    The darkness enveloped me like a sumptuous dress wrapped around me. The faraway shadows of anguish and dread were chasing me like ominous ghouls.

    I was seeking ghosts that reminded me of lost loves while wandering accompanied by my madness as the only chaperone.

    No pang could ever touch me anymore since I’ve been depleted of my heart that was standing on a dry branch of a dead tree, beating loudly like an incessant cry.

    My only way to exist was to roam erratically without any guidance. I was already a creature of the world of darkness. I had altered a myriad times in numerous ways.

    I had definitely forsaken the world of mortals, with whom I never felt any affinity. I didn’t mind losing myself in that tremendous labyrinth.

    As far as I could proceed, I felt the nothingness swallowing me with delight. A storm had subjugated me and shattered my being.

    Not even a speck of myself had been kept by the frozen soil, because a whirlwind had stolen my essence. I was held captive by the abyss of darkness and there were no expectations or delusions.

    I finally remembered as a long-lost memory that time no longer existed, when love seeped into the heart like a sweet poison. It burned slowly, transforming into eternal desire.

    And there I lay down underneath the soil soaked with ice and flames with my heart standing on a dry branch of a dead tree, dreaming fearlessly and ceaselessly like a funerary elegy.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Phantasmagoric Fantasies

    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 me

    I 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 nights

    My 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 raindrops

    The 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 illusory

    As 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 aim

    Quaffing 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 hazard

    Lost 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 dreams

    For 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 me

    I 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

  • Ensnared In My Own Obsessions

    Ensnared In My Own Obsessions

    Ensnared in my own obsessions, tricked by my own illusions, I wandered, lost in the abyss of my fantasies. Nightmares were lulling me to sleep on a winter night, while soft whispers were revealing terrible truths to me.

    Time was slow like my heartbeat. I couldn’t cope with my anguish. It was a massive pain that devoured my heart constantly and slowly. Slow was the time. Slow was the consistency of all my pangs inflicted on me.

    Far away, I couldn’t perceive any clear horizon because respite was cast away from me. I could have cried; I could have screamed; I could have broken free from every cruel distress, no mortal soul would have ever noticed it, in the realm of sugary masquerades and coffee goblets.

    Overwhelmed by the sense of oblivion and nothingness, I begged my fate to make me forget my bitter and sad memories, in an attempt to save myself from destruction. Teardrops of crystal ran across my face until they fell into darkness in the absolute silence of the eternal night.

    And I finally sipped the very last drop from my toxic goblet. I could feel my heart fracture in all its power, and my body shake with bliss and delight. I embodied my decay fiercely, and flames engulfed me impetuously.

    Shadows captured me viciously with their menacing claws, ripping my heart to fierce sparkles of passion. Shivers of euphoria and panic coursed through my mind, and my body was under the influence of a magic spell.

    The void claimed me as if I were a creature of its tragic realm. That immortal doom seized me in a dungeon where no starlight could penetrate. I hesitated and sighed in the midst of the nocturnal haze, which hid the deception of my dreams.

    Ensnared by my own obsessions, fooled by my own delusions, I strolled in the chasm of my daydreams, although I was confused. I couldn’t feel loneliness anymore because of my imagination. I couldn’t discern anymore what was real and what was not.

    I strove to feel calm and so much wished to be a star glowing in the sky among clouds and moons.
    I aimed to be infinity and emptiness. My heart became a labyrinth of frenzy and murkiness. I was longing to be taken away from my hallucinations.

    And I wailed to the firmament a multitude of times over, though I knew that no creature was willing to hear my laments. Wicked ghosts cast a spell over me, mesmerising me, and I surrendered to their shadiness, mistaking it for deliverance.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • A Shallow Melancholy

    A Shallow Melancholy

    A shallow melancholy caught me in the labyrinth of torment and insomnia. My heart was pierced and disheartened by senseless whirlwinds of despair and anguish.

    I didn’t know where I was headed, but I could only feel a tremendous intimidation inside myself. A vast, gloomy shadow wouldn’t allow me to see beyond the horizon.

    I had no destination, and it seemed that I had no free choice to escape from that doomed fate of mine. The haze was so dense, and the night was so dark that I couldn’t find any portal to allow me to escape.

    I screamed to the stars, but they refused to listen to my voice, and I was cast away from their gaze for eternity. The everlasting darkness granted me the utmost agony, and sorrow lulled me to a fatal slumber.

    Although I cherished my dreams, they vanished into the ashes of decay. Solitude and loneliness had spellbound me with their sombre and mournful enchantment.

    In a mystic aura, I was viscously bound to a magical realm of lost spirits and wicked wraiths, which whispered their laments to my ears.

    I knew not who I had become and what my name was. So much confused and chaotic was the state of my heart that it sank deeply into the abyss of havoc.

    I fell into ecstasy and bliss, enjoying my decay and every pang bestowed upon my heart. Hurt and frantic, I shed tears of bliss and elation.

    My sobs and sighs broke the solemn silence that remained my most loyal companion in that kingdom of demise and chagrin.

    Frenzy distressed me, and turmoil shattered my heart. I embraced the bitter emptiness, hovering like an ethereal creature in search of magic vaults and secret forests.

    And there were no beginnings nor ends in the domain of the shallow melancholy. I dangled from spectral threads that drew me into my perpetual disintegration. And I lay there, claimed by the hereafter.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Seeking Dreams

    Seeking Dreams

    Seeking dreams in nowhere on a winter night with no stars but only a mystical fog and gloomy clouds. Not even a bird was flying in the leaden and dark sky. Only the clouds were gazing at me like curious observers, and the wind whispered legends of despair to me.

    I signed and dreamed of ocean floors paved with diamonds and stars. I fantasised about mermaids lost in submerged islands, and snow-capped waterfalls on remote cliffs. Time faded away when I was dreaming. Not even the impetuous cold rain could distract me from my nightdreaming.

    Foolishness never abandoned me, while I was consumed by my passionate longings, which brought me to the edge of the universe. Wonderful darkness enticed me, and I summoned my own demons and spirits, surrounded by exquisite midnight flowers.

    Folly and wisdom accompanied me in my everlasting journey to a netherworld descent. Though I have visited heavens and abysses, boundless valleys and inaccessible mountains, I have always ended up at the very same point of origin, namely my archaic abyss of despair.

    Seeking dreams in nowhere on a frosty night with no glimmering lights but only a ghostly haze and dismal shadows. No living creature crept close to me, but only wraiths and eerie ghouls, which kept following me in every abode and realm I dwelled in.

    I foresaw my decay and the obliteration of all my dreams that I had sought for so long in vain. Drowning in the emptiness and losing my heart, became a nightmare of mine under the shape of an incubus visiting my slumber. Arcane verses, evoking a magic spell, were engraved on my soul.

    Scarlet flowers adorned my hair that flowed on my face, while my tears of sorrow soaked the frozen soil. Nightmares and thorns poisoned my never-ending nights, tainting the sky with chaos. Numbed and mesmerised by swirling griefs that never hesitated to tarnish my keenness, I softly succumbed to my unavoidable demise.

    While seeking dreams, I harboured enemies in my soul, fooling myself with obsessions that left indelible marks in my senses. I had to renounce being myself and let the darkness swallow all my desires. In a realm of liminality, I was cast away and compelled to endure agony.

    Abandoned in my dismay, I found no solace. I metamorphosed into sorrow. I became what I had feared the most, the very thing that had damaged my heart. I ended up in loneliness and turmoil, seeing my own reflection staring back at me in fractured and disfigured mirrors.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Upon The Petals Of Intoxicating Beauty

    Upon The Petals Of Intoxicating Beauty

    Upon the petals of intoxicating beauty, as if it were a marvellous flower, I found my haven of love and dreams. I lost touch with my wisdom and embraced my unconscious desires. Passionate as I was, perpetual flames scorched my heart, where all my most audacious secrets were embalmed.

    The winter storm came suddenly, and it made all my flowers fade to a haze of stardust. Love and dreams rumbled in my heart like thunderbolts. In stupor and wonder, I fell into an eternal slumber, in which I couldn’t suffer or feel despair. Frozen and benumbed, I became a part of a realm beyond time and space.

    Among stars and clouds, I could see the rainbow of my derealization. I was inflamed and frightened by my own trepidations. I attempted to convey my liberty from past chains, as they strove to bring me down into the abyss of misery. What could I have been in other realities I knew not, while I was lost in broken remembrances.

    The frigid breeze unleashed remembrances and released ancient phantoms from my early past. A vortex of emotions stirred inside me, emptying me of all my enigmas. I wished I could understand what was happening in that very moment. Nevertheless, stupor and hallucinations kept me from wisdom and sanity.

    I felt innocent and fierce, although a bitter dread attempted to fill my heart with infinite emptiness and anguish. I celebrated my resentful loneliness as a treasured gift very dear to me. Every feeling overwhelmed me, and I kept freezing. Every cherished devotion made me hide in the most remote haven.

    I started to talk to mirrors even when they were broken. Each mirror whispered words I didn’t wish to utter or hear. I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t remember my past, since I had lost all connection to past ghouls. I couldn’t find out who I was and where I was. None of my questions had ever found their answer.

    Upon the petals of intoxicating beauty, as if it were a poison spell, I found my demise and eternal doom. My fragility induced me to weep, and I screamed into the darkness of the inexhaustible night. My tears engraved every pang upon my face, running down like garnet streams.

    Thorns and brambles wrapped themselves around me delightfully, making me rejoice with euphoria and bliss. In the ecstasy of contrition and mortification, I found my utmost merriment. Lying helpless and disconsolate, I followed the trails of my reveries, hoping in vain to remember my name.

    I dreamed of exquisite flowers and sweet poisons. I fantasised about petals of intoxicating beauty, until dark shadows dragged me into the abyss of obliteration. I might have been cast into a realm of demise, where spirits and underworld creatures offered me festive and joyful torments.

    In dizziness and elation, I was struck by magical starlight and thunder. Upon the petals of intoxicating beauty, as if it were a marvellous flower, I was defeated and cast away. And lost in the labyrinth of my souvenirs, I could no longer distinguish delusional fantasies from my own ruin.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Whimsical Chimaeras

    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

  • The Shadow Of Decay

    The Shadow Of Decay

    The shadow of decay was behind me, perpetually, like a faithful lover, pulling every hope of being loved and cherished as a unique treasure out of my heart. It was a distorted mirror reflecting my anguish and fears, filling my chamber with scarlet red incense, oppressing and stifling me, and preventing me from seeing my own portrait.

    I lived this overwhelming and dreadful pseudo‑reality in constant anguish, no longer understanding whether it was truth, a surreal fantasy, or the product of my hallucinations. I perceived those grievous candles that enflamed my yearnings every time I approached them.

    The cold rock walls were so thick that, however much I strove to lament and weep my pain, no one could ever hear it—no mortal and no creature from the mysterious world of immortality to which, apparently, I now belonged.

    Amid dust and teardrops, I was relegated like an evanescent creature, living on the faint light of garnet candles, and thick, resinous incense smoke that enveloped me in its sacred, suffocating haze. Even the stars refused to shine into my little vault, where my pierced heart lay clutched by the crumbling walls like a macabre relic on display.

    I was no longer able to harbour a desire or hope for an existence made of enchanted flowers and love spells. I had lost in the abyss of obliteration everything I had desired, and all that I had vainly pursued in my tragic life had vanished, offering me just a bleak and mortifying dungeon for my soul.

    And thus I vanished into a menacing and omnipresent cloud that loomed over me. Even the decrepit walls, made of cold and insensible rock, had no tears to shed for my bitter demise. I myself had become the shadow of decay, no longer a mortal being but a creature of that world I had so long forgotten, which, despite everything, had embraced me entirely and inescapably.
    Elisabetta Esther

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