Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: spectres

  • 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

  • Shadows of the Eternal Night

    Shadows of the Eternal Night

    Shadows of the eternal night were hiding beyond the darkness,
    Veiled dreams coiling, drifting on winds so cold,
    Lost secrets tangled in webs of sorrowed stillness.

    The stars retired, their light consumed in a dimmed haze,
    Where spectres roamed through time-worn graves,
    And ancient oaths in hollow whispers praised.

    Each flower upon this hexed soil bore tales,
    Of souls long bound to sorrow’s endless plights,
    Where hope decayed, and love’s fair visage paled.

    Soft reveries became just faded vestiges,
    And scepticism obliterated every dream and desire,
    In a realm of brutality where beauty and magnificence were replaced by platitude.

    Beneath the nocturnal veil where promise hovered,
    Resided the sighs of anguish, drawn and lost,
    In silent mourning, under a moonless sky.

    Forgotten rhymes drifted like autumn leaves,
    Their faint sorrows lingered in the void,
    Bound by fate, in nights that never cleaved.

    Ghostly guises disclosed tales upon the mist,
    Of fragile lives now tethered to regret,
    In shadows ruling ominously whenever light and passions desisted.

    Ancient idols crumbled, haunted by decay,
    Their marbled stares held secrets left untold,
    A vigil kept for dawn that slipped away.

    The wind lamented in hollow, cadenced tones,
    Its chilling gusts were a requiem for hope,
    Where life withdrew, and death in darkness honed.

    The trees, with their dreary branches gnarled and bare,
    They were sentinels cast in the eerie twilight gloom,
    Witnesses to pain none could ever repair.

    Beneath the roots weaved webs of betrayal,
    Embracing misery, sealing completely dead vows,
    In earth-bound glooms, cursed and locked within.

    Each stone was engraved with words no vernacular may utter,
    A silent litany for spirits confined,
    By time’s cruel decree, eternally they sought.

    Shadows of the eternal night lingered, ruling among ruins and mournings,
    Where all was torn from life and love,
    And nothing remained bound to light or worlds unseen.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Castle of Stone

    The Castle of Stone

    The castle of stone arose majestically amid the hills where shadows lay,
    The castle stood beneath the cloudy sky,
    Its towers stretched like skeletal hands,
    Grasping at clouds that shift like sands.

    A mournful wind, it softly moaned,
    Through broken halls and cracked old stones,
    The walls were adorned with dust and time,
    Once echoes of a distant chime.

    The ivy crawled in twisted veins,
    A silent witness to the pains,
    That haunted these chambers where darkness crept,
    Where secrets bled, and phantoms wept.

    The moonlight spilt like liquid frost,
    Illuminating souls long lost,
    Their whispers drifted on chilling air,
    The dead’s lament, a ghostly prayer.

    In shadowed corners, eyes unseen,
    Watched over things that might have been,
    A shiver stirred within the night,
    The stones remembered, felt, and frightened.

    The floorboards groaned with every step,
    As if they woke from ages slept,
    spectres formed where cold mist flowed,
    In passages like winding groves.

    The tapestries, though moths devoured,
    Portrayed some ancient, dreaded hour,
    Of blood and grief and fates unknown,
    Told in the silence of the stone.

    Above, the clock stroke one last chime,
    Its hand now stilled by death and time,
    A voice that echoed through the halls,
    And faded away like distant calls.

    A door ajar, a flickering light,
    It beckoned through the endless night,
    However, none may have passed who entered whole,
    Because here, the castle kept its toll.

    Its chambers stretched, labyrinth mazes,
    Where dawn will never pierce the haze,
    And those who sought to find a way,
    They went lost forever in its sway.

    The ancient hearth lay cold and bare,
    No fire shall ever kindle there,
    But ashes held the ghosts of flame,
    And laments echoed of a name.

    A name once carved on marble cold,
    Now weathered by the years untold,
    It faded as dust on twilight’s breath,
    A fleeting shadow kissed by death.

    The garden’s wrought with thorns and vines,
    Where roses once did twist and twine,
    Now black as pitch, they drooped and died,
    Beneath the starless, vacant sky.

    The heart of the castle of stone beat faint and slow,
    Its pulse a thrum from long ago,
    A relic of a world forgotten,
    Where life and death entwined and decayed.

    No mortal traces stirred the chilling gloom,
    The air grew stale as heavy doom,
    And time itself did seem to slow,
    As stone entombed, all that did grow.

    In this place where darkness reigned,
    The past’s despair forever stained,
    And every echo, every groan,
    Lived on within the castle of stone.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Fragments of Regret

    Fragments of Regret

    Fragments of regret haunt the night,
    In shadows hideouts where spectres dwell,
    Where moonlight casts its mournful spell,
    There lies a realm of bitter grief,
    Where ghosts of bygone epochs find relief.

    The mazes of a haunted mind,
    With memories cruel, their chains entwined,
    Echo with a sorrowful moan,
    As regrets claim their spectral throne.

    Fragments of regret haunt the night,
    Through halls of mist and endless night,
    Where faded hopes lose all their light,
    The wraiths of fate left unmade,
    Drape heavily in spectral shade.

    Each fleeting hope and unspoken plea,
    Becomes a ghoul that hounds the free,
    A lament of moments lost in vain,
    Their hollow cries a ceaseless pain.

    In chambers draped with ashen gloom,
    Where lost ambitions meet their doom,
    The spectres dance in mournful grace,
    Their sorrow was etched upon their face.

    Fragments of regret haunt the night,
    The echo of a whispered choice,
    A silenced scream, a broken voice,
    Shackled to the past’s cruel jest,
    The ghosts of regret never rest.

    Beneath the pall of the moon’s embrace,
    Where shadows mock a vanished face,
    Regrets as ghosts, both cold and vile,
    Haunt the aisles of denial.

    In this forsaken, haunted place,
    Where time stands motionless, a grim embrace,
    The restless phantoms of regret
    Reveal a truth none can’t forget.

    Fragments of regret haunt the night,
    For in the realm of shadows profound,
    Where anguished souls and memories are bound,
    The weight of choices left undone
    It is a curse that haunts everyone.

    So, it needs to tread with care through this dark land,
    Where spectres weave their mournful strand,
    And face the ghosts of dreams untried,
    Lest wanderers will be lost where shadows bide.

    As echoes of regret persist,
    Their chilling grip is like phantom mist,
    They weave through memories, cruel and dire,
    Igniting in the heart a darkened fire.

    In every creak of the decaying wood,
    In the damp and disintegrating falsehood,
    Lies the lingering trace of those lost dreams,
    And the torment of silent screams.

    Fragments of regret haunt the night,
    Casting their shadows far and wide,
    Till the soul is lost in this eternal tide,
    Forever bound by chains unseen,
    Where regret’s cruel ghosts have always been.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Entropy Dreams

    Entropy Dreams

    Entropy dreams,
    Fragments of utopia scatter in the emptiness,
    In a whirlwind of forsaken dreams,
    Silent screams come to be louder,
    In the void, nothing is what it seems.

    Stars weep, their light fading fast,
    Time disintegrates, a mere illusion,
    The cosmos laughs, a cosmic jest,
    Existence crumbles in confusion.

    Shadows swirl with unseen chains,
    Life’s meaning slips through broken mirrors,
    In the chaos, only doom remains,
    A bitter taste of despair lingers.

    Ethereal entities move with severed ropes,
    Controlled by unscrupulous needles,
    A spectacular show of futile things,
    A game of illusions and cruel wills.

    Stars search for new realms in endless nights,
    Ghouls beat to rhythms of despair,
    Wandering flames grasp at straws of fleeting light,
    Before dissolving in the nothingness.

    An embrace of the void, deprived of hope,
    Chaos, a precious place of the final phase,
    In the end, there is only the abyss of solitude and annihilation,
    Entropy dreams, like a cold and relentless embrace.

    Slowly, the wind moves every delight away,
    Dizziness and anguish like heavy rain,
    During long nights of dismal nightmares,
    Visions of death and tears.

    Blood drops on the stones of ancient times,
    Like red roses blossoming in thorns,
    An invisible dungeon without escape,
    Buried alive dreams.

    At the ends of the universe, forgotten and forlorn,
    Fates and fortunes entwine in macabre proms,
    Legends of chaos, haunting mournings,
    Lost in the labyrinths of chance and oddity.

    Thoughts unravel, threads of wisdom fray,
    Spectres of expectancy drift away in the abyss,
    Beneath the stars’ apathetic glance,
    Entropy dreams surrender to the darkness.

    Void’s clasp, cruel and relentless,
    A garden of despair and sorrow,
    While every memory is a faint reality,
    As the darkness devours the light.

    Tangled in the web of destiny,
    Time ticks to the rhythm of decay,
    In the end, it was too late, too late to reprieve,
    Lost in the grasp of entropy and chaos.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Castle By The Ocean

    The Castle By The Ocean

    The castle by the ocean stood on a cliff ruled by shadows at night,
    An ancient, towering fortress, fierce and fantastic, haunted and forlorn.
    It rose from the rock, a sentinel of stone and memory,
    Bearing witness to countless storms, its walls were stroked by time and tide.

    Waves mild and intense disclosed secrets long heretofore,
    Stories of love and death, of struggles fought and lives surrendered.
    In the moon’s pale, ghostly glares, spectres roamed the halls at dusk,
    Their steps echoed through the aisles, a mournful melody.

    Turrets pierced through the mist, emerged scornful against the sky,
    Their silhouettes were a stark contrast to the swirling fog below.
    Windows, once alive with lamps, now gazed upon the sea,
    Stares of sorrow, dark and unbound, reflected the endless expanse.

    The castle’s gates, long rusted shut, held tales of ancient treasures,
    Of kings and queens, of fearless knights, their legends carved in gravel.
    The castle by the ocean with walls carved by time and storms kept secret stories from days sunk in oblivion,
    Each pebble bore the weight of a history’s silent song.

    Mirrors of the past stuck around inside every tormented chamber,
    In each stone, a hidden misery and a remembrance were entombed.
    The ballroom, now empty, once rang with giggle and mirth,
    Feasts and proms, melodies raised, celebrating life and inception.

    The castle by the ocean sobbed, a lament to the sky,
    Where restless spirits never perished, bound to this earthly realm.
    They wandered through the twilight, shades of what once was,
    Guardians of forgotten lore lost in time’s relentless haze.

    The library, with dusty tomes, held knowledge long since known,
    Books of wisdom, spells, and dreams, their pages now unattended.
    Cobwebs draped the chandeliers, their crystals dull and silver,
    Once sparkling at the candlelight, now dimmed by centuries’ decay.

    The courtyard, overgrown with wild shrubs, where flowers used to bloom,
    Now lay as silent witness to nature’s quiet doom.
    However, the castle by the ocean stood firm, defiant against time,
    A relic of a bygone era, preserved in sorrow’s tears.

    The castle by the ocean became a monument to the past,
    An ancient, towering fortress, severe and feral, tormented and desolate.
    Its heritage, etched in stone and sea, whispered on the wind,
    A tale of unyielding resolve, where ghouls endlessly persisted.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Labyrinth Of Crimson Nightmares

    The Labyrinth Of Crimson Nightmares

    The labyrinth of crimson nightmares,
    A realm where shadows twisted in endless layers,
    A maze of fear and haunting cries,
    Beneath the blood-red skies.

    Cold and bare walls of gravestones,
    Emerged with a chilling stare,
    Each corner revealed a twisted scene,
    A realm of darkness where ghosts convened.

    The air was made of mournful cries,
    As spectres drifted and dimness flew,
    In hallways of twisted elegance,
    Eternal sorrow left its trace.

    A crimson light, both faint and grim,
    Gave the maze a spectral dim,
    Figures danced in fleeting grace,
    Their faces were hidden, lost in space.

    In every niche, whispers resounded,
    Secrets buried deep, unbound,
    Tales of pain and endless dread,
    Relics of the forsaken since dead.

    Mirrors, cracked and darkly stained,
    Reflected the fears that once remained,
    Eyes stared back with hollow gaze,
    Lost in the maze’s endless haze.

    The scent of flowers, tinged with decay,
    Lingered where nightmares plotted in dismay,
    A silent scream, a phantom’s wail,
    Guided the lost through fearsome trails.

    A grand hall, yet fraught with disquiet,
    Shadows loomed in eerie twilight,
    A crimson alcove, dark and stark,
    Where nightmares fed on every mark.

    The labyrinth of crimson nightmares,
    Whose walls stirred, twisted, and sighed,
    Entrapping ghouls in endless strife,
    In a realm where infinite death was rife.

    Every turn a darker shade,
    Every step, a deeper raid,
    The labyrinth of crimson nightmares with its shifting maze,
    Kept trapped in its cruel daze.

    As the night elapsed, the darkness bound,
    The labyrinth of crimson nightmares preyed on disquieted spirits,
    Spectral laughter, ghastly moans,
    Resonated through the darkness.

    The dawn might have come, the maze might have shifted,
    But the crimson curse would never lift,
    In the heart of gloominess’s cruel seam,
    The labyrinth of crimson nightmares remained a dream.

    Each dawn revealed a graver fright,
    In endless depths of endless nights,
    Unfathomable in its design,
    The maze consumed the light, malign.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Haunting Of The Forgotten Realm

    The Haunting Of The Forgotten Realm

    The haunting of the forgotten realm,
    Where time became eternal,
    And dreams descended the haunted hill,
    While echoes of a past bereft moved through the shadows left.

    An ancient castle, old and worn,
    With ivy-clad and weather-torn,
    Stood silent underneath the moon’s cold eye,
    Where spectres of old tales sighed.

    Its walls were a shimmering expanse,
    Holding memories that faded away,
    Yet, lingered in the midnight air,
    A haunting whisper of despair.

    The wind howled through shattered glasses,
    Carried tales of those who passed away,
    Unseen by mortal eyes that wept,
    And into restless slumber crept.

    For in that realm, so lost in space and time,
    Where darkness wove its silent rhyme,
    The spirits of the past convened,
    In shadows deep and ever keen.

    Their mournful cries were but a silent breeze,
    A chilling touch of ancient death,
    That haunted the hallways and chambers,
    Where time and shadow intertwined and loomed.

    No mortal touch could ease the pain,
    Nor light dispel the sombre chain,
    Had been that place so dark and cold,
    The ghosts of yesteryears unfolded.

    Their voices echoed through the night,
    Among spectral dances and phantom flights,
    A tale of sorrow, loss and grim,
    Of lives undone and spirits dim.

    And those who wandered through the gloom,
    They might have found themselves within the crypt of forsaken dreams,
    Where whispers echoed, and shadows schemed,
    Lost in a realm where nothing was as it seemed.

    In that forsaken and haunted land,
    Where time and darkness went side by side,
    The ghosts of the past and fears combined,
    In a kingdom where shadows interlaced.

    Moved through the overwhelming darkness,
    Their shapes, like whispers, drifted by,
    Each step a ghostly echo of the past,
    In a realm where memories never died.

    They wove through the darkness with silent grace,
    Leaving traces of their haunted embrace,
    In a stillness where time seemed to sigh.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Arcane Portal

    The Arcane Portal

    The arcane portal lay in the heart of a desolate and forsaken wood,
    Where ancient trees with gnarled whispers stood,
    There emerged a portal veiled in deep shadows,
    A gateway in the nightly and sorrowful meadows.

    Beneath the moon’s pale, ghostly light,
    The portal pulsed with a spectral might,
    Its frame of obsidian, cold and grim,
    Echoed with chants of a forgotten hymn.

    Creeping fog enshrouded the ground,
    Muffling all the hollow, eerie sound,
    Of whispers from souls long lost in time,
    Who crossed the threshold and committed their crime.

    The air was thick with despair’s embrace,
    No joy or hope could find its place,
    Only the weight of an eternal night,
    And the haunting visions of endless fright.

    From the portal’s depths, a chill wind blew,
    Carrying whispers that no one knew,
    Of secrets buried in the ancient soil,
    Tales of woe, of endless toil.

    Spectres roamed in silent grief,
    Bound to the arcane portal, with no relief,
    Their eyes hollow, their forms so thin,
    Trapped between worlds, they could not grin.

    The trees around, their branches bare,
    Seemed to weep in the cold, still air,
    As shadows danced in a mournful waltz,
    To the portal’s call, a siren’s quartz.

    A lone wanderer, drawn by fate’s cruel hand,
    Stood at the threshold of this cursed land,
    A step away from the endless abyss,
    Where darkness reigned with a twisted bliss.

    Fear-rooted dreams, their heart a snare,
    Caught in the portal’s wicked glare,
    And there they stood, forever bound,
    Trust was lost in the portal’s playground.

    In the silence of the cursed wood,
    Only echoes of lost souls eternally misunderstood,
    The ghosts’ signs, a final plea,
    Lost to the arcane portal’s dark decree.

    No dawn would break this eternal night,
    No hope, no glimpse of heaven’s light,
    Just endless despair, a fate unkind,
    Within the portal blew a perpetual wind,
    A hollow echo, no solace to find.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Winter Gardens

    Winter Gardens

    Winter gardens of lost memories,
    Where frost clung to the withered roses,
    Silent whispers through the twisted trees,
    In the hush where the cold wind blew.

    Echoes of reveries, now long gone,
    Stirred the barren, shadowed soil,
    Time’s breath on the frost, a muted melody,
    In the quiet where the past was never to be found.

    Underneath the snow, the secrets lay,
    Frozen dreams in a spectral light,
    The ghosts of moments that drifted and sighed,
    In the garden’s mournful, endless night.

    Winter gardens of lost hopes,
    Where every snowflake was a wistful tear,
    Remnants of bliss in the icy breeze,
    Softly faded through the years.

    Beneath the ice, the earth still wept,
    As the sun dipped low in the sky,
    Shadows lingered where the sorrow seeped,
    And the past’s faint relics silently faded.

    Each hidden path led to a mysterious tale,
    In the stillness, secrets panted,
    Time wove its web with a delicate veil,
    Of forgotten dreams, it concealed beneath.

    In the twilight’s chill, the spectres played,
    Danced through the frost’s embrace,
    Guardians of memories lost and invisible,
    In the garden’s cold, silent space.

    Winter gardens of lost memories,
    Timeless realms where shadows blended,
    Preserved fragments of their reveries,
    Until the thaw brought them to an end.

    Whispering groves of forgotten tales,
    Where instants of time slowly blended,
    In the still of the night, underneath ghastly trees,
    Lost longings from the past died away.

    Frozen branches cradled dreams unspoken,
    In their grasp, a fragile repose,
    Silence infused new life into dreams once broken,
    Where every frost-bitten memory bloomed.

    Amidst the snow’s cold, delicate lace,
    Phantoms of old hopes softly trod,
    In the garden’s frost-kissed, sacred space,
    Lay the eternal quiet of what was said.

    Winter gardens of lost memories,
    Guardians of time’s elusive grace,
    Held the past in its frozen seas,
    Till the thaw unveiled their hidden place.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

© Esther Racah 2025. All rights reserved.