Tag: spell

  • The Mirror Spell

    The Mirror Spell

    The mirror spell was cast in a time long past,
    When the shadows were more sombre,
    And no light was reflected by that polished glass with worn edges,
    In a realm where dreams and desires were both shattered and torn.

    The mirror held a mystic snare,
    Since an ancient curse was embedded underneath;
    Its countenance became frozen as the night descended,
    Concealing tales of malcontent and sorrow.

    None could ever have touched it,
    A frail and lost vestige of the past.
    No one knew the foolish tale of this magic mirror,
    A mirror that, for every glance, granted but a glimpse of dread,
    Revealing only truths that none could bear.

    Withered hopes and desolate hearts laid bare in that realm of death,
    Each crack was a line of sorrow’s trace,
    Revealing each distorted dream in a haunting silence.
    Each night, it summoned a hollow tone,
    Luring the lost to claim its own;

    In haunted halls, where echoes roamed like wild animals,
    The mirror enticed the lost dreamers,
    Making them drunk on dreams, their fleeting light,
    Swallowed by chasms as dark as night;
    Its silent curse, a binding thread,
    To weave the hearts of the forgotten dead.

    In this fatal frolic of dreams and oblivion,
    Those who dared to peer inside,
    Were drawn to an abyss none could disguise;
    Till flesh and spirit, thin and worn,
    Became as pale as twilight morn.

    The mirror lingered in that desolate dwelling,
    A relic untouched by time,
    Luring those who sought reasons that would forever elude them.
    Veiled in glooms, it became a gateway,
    Pulling ghosts into a realm where whispers of despair merged with the lingering scent of dust and decay.

    Each sigh, a lullaby for the forlorn, coaxed the foolish and fearless alike until consumed by the darkness.
    They hovered beyond the reach of dawn,
    Into the infinite void.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Spell of Death

    The Spell of Death

    The spell of death was cast beneath the shroud of twilight’s darkness,
    Like a poisonous ivy with tendrils creeping through the shadow’s gate,
    To bind the souls to a woeful and inexorable fate,
    While the night devoured hope, sealing every dreadful fate.

    The atmosphere was gloomy and tainted by whispers of despair,
    As spirits writhed in torment’s snare,
    Their cries were like distant thunder in the dimmed air.
    The cauldron’s brew did bubble and hiss,
    Unleashing doom with a ghostly kiss.

    In midnight’s chill, the spirits wept,
    For those ensnared in shadows kept,
    Their agony echoed through the hollow crypt,
    The ancient curse, a binding vow,
    Wrought in sorrow, sealed somehow.

    From crypts below, the dark arts arose,
    Enchanting mourners’ despondent like dead roses,
    And spreading dread like frost’s cruel fingers on a winter’s night.
    The moon looked on, a spectral glare,
    As death’s cold fingers filled the air.

    Once summoning words did invoke despair,
    A cauldron boiled in the witches’ lair.
    They chanted doom with a hollow tone,
    Their voices echoed like graveyard stone.

    The candles flickered, life faded pale,
    As shadows writhed and spirits wailed,
    While the flames danced wildly to the cursed wind’s breath.
    Through dust and ash, a chill descended,
    The curse persisted; it never ended.

    Bones rattled in the dampened earth,
    Their souls were condemned, with no hope for rebirth.
    A heart that pounded was not supposed to beat anymore,
    Entombed within death’s dreadful lore.

    Beneath the obscure veil of night’s caress,
    The darkness deepened, and horrors did press.
    The spell of death was cast; none could have been saved,
    For death has come, and silence craved.

    In this realm of delightful derealisation,
    Nightmares came true as real visions,
    Of ghosts and demons that danced with glee,
    Amid stormy winds of dark eternity.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Magic Spell

    The Magic Spell

    The magic spell enchanted the night
    That was heavy with forgotten lore,
    A spell cast deep from ages before.
    In the heart of a forest, shrouded by despair.

    Whispered incantations filled the midnight air,
    The grimoire lay open, brittle and bare.
    Candles flickered, casting shadows tall,
    As darkness answered to every call.

    With each word spoken, the wind did rise,
    Howling like demons from the void of the skies.
    The ground beneath trembled, cold and weak,
    As if the earth itself had forgotten to speak.

    A place that sought to summon the dead,
    To awaken spirits long silent, long fled.
    Through twisted trees, their faces did gleam,
    Eyes hollow and lost, trapped in their dream.

    The moon above was swallowed by clouds,
    And the night descended in haunted shrouds.
    Chants grew louder, desperate and wild,
    For the dark arts, the chosen child.

    The magic spell, dense in the aura, suffocating all,
    A portal to the depths of some enchanted hall.
    The spell worked its magic, cruel and vast,
    Binding forever to shadows of the past.

    Voices murmured from the stones nearby,
    An echo of a curse that refused to die.
    Through the mist they came, spirits long cursed,
    Their hollow chuckle made the soul feel worse.

    In horror, the spell took form,
    A creature born of night, death, and storm.
    It towered above, a phantom of dread,
    Its eyes glowed crimson, its body of lead.

    In a voice like thunder, it called a name,
    “You summoned me forth; now you’re to blame.”
    Mercy begged for, a will turned to dust,
    But in the dark arts, mercy is rust.

    The magic spell consumed all, a soul a mere husk,
    Trapped in a world forever of dusk.
    The spell woven became a cage,
    An endless nightmare, an eternal stage.

    Now, wandering these woods, lost in a trance,
    Caught between realms, a prisoner of chance.
    The spell never lifted, its grip iron-tight,
    The magic spell, eternal, devoid of light.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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