Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: storm

  • The Emptiness Within My Mind

    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

  • Betrayed By My Own Delusions

    Betrayed By My Own Delusions

    Betrayed by my own delusions
    I imagine being an ethereal fairy in my realm of dreams
    Where no creature could ever perturb my heart
    And I could cry out my soul

    Invane becomes my attempt to remain wise and sane
    Insanity and madness are my new names
    I forget my essence to transform into another myself
    And in this metamorphosis, I’m the ruler of my own kingdom

    Silence is my new favourite language
    I can touch flowers of emotions whose scent bewitches me
    I’m under the enchanting spell that I’ve cast upon myself
    I’m a turmoil of love and death, and no storm can prevent me from my intentions

    Quietude is my favourite to express myself
    I stare at my several reflections in the mirror of disquietude
    And I hide behind the magnificence of my exquisite garden of dreams
    Where I can fantasize about all my envisioned hallucinations

    Because I adore soaking in the fountain of everlasting passions
    As my limitless yearnings for decadence and dissolute emptiness increase at night
    During my delightful slumber
    When I’m betrayed by my own delusions

    Lying in my garden of lush and mesmerizing flowers
    I forget my name and my essence
    And I don’t feel any fear or concern about my fate
    Because I belong to the darkness and oblivion

    The eternal night with starred skies belongs to me
    I become an odd fairy floating freely among her flowers of decay
    I identify myself with decadence and extreme love
    Because I’m insane and a storm of passions

    Melancholy and sadness are my steady companions
    From which I can never separate myself
    And all my blooming flowers wither and fade away
    As soon as I weep for my long-lost innocence

    Betrayed by my own delusions
    I forget myself and I’m left bewildered
    Intoxicated with the poison of my own desires
    Lost in the turmoil of my madness and decadence.
    Elisabetta

  • A Storm Of Sadness

    A Storm Of Sadness

    A storm of sadness and anguish is striking me with all its might
    And I cannot possibly escape it
    The sun is shining brightly
    But my heart is as dark as the night.

    Hence, I wait for the night to come to rejoice in its feast
    Fearless are my desires,
    And shameless are my fantasies
    I find delight in crying because I can let my fears manifest freely

    I’m odd and unusual
    I cannot fit into any description or catalogue
    I live of dreams and wonders
    I breathe decadence and melancholy
    After all, I am the embodiment of tragedy and blight

    The storm of sadness comes back every day of my life
    It is a familiar shadow at my doorstep, and I embrace it
    I drink the poison of my hallucinations like the sweet nectar of the abyss
    A luscious decay draped in perfumes of bygone eternities

    The wind wails my dismay through hollow halls
    In chambers long abandoned the ever-faithful night is my sacred dwelling
    Little daggers of despair pierce my heart, don’t let it rest even for an instant
    My sensibility is a cherry tree in full bloom under the storm of dreadful occurrences

    I dwell within my hallucinations, lost in a world of beautiful delusion
    Every dream carries me to faraway realms, where reality dares not follow
    I love to indulge in my wild fantasies and my delirium is a paroxysm of lust
    In my kingdom whose sky is made of red and purple clouds, everything is possible and limitless

    Nevertheless, the storm of sadness never left my dreams
    Always looking for me as a creature of its belongings
    Dressing me with an exquisite gown made of tears and sorrow
    Chaining me to a dungeon of dark madness and loneliness
    From which I am bound, unable to escape for all eternity.
    Elisabetta

  • I Mystify My Tragedy

    I Mystify My Tragedy

    I mystify my tragedy into my poetry
    I become words and ethereal thoughts
    Delusion is my name since I live of illusions
    While the frozen truth manifests through a stormy wind

    Faraway but not too much, there is my desire
    The object of my obsession and passion
    So close to me and yet a kind of distant
    Hope is my name since I live of wishes

    Call me a visionary and fool
    But my spirit belongs to a storm bounding me
    Like an invisible spiderweb in which I’m a captive
    Sad and lonely, desperate and disheartened

    So I’m writing my poem of self-introspection
    Ready to fall down from a cliff of dreams
    Until I reach the abyss of oblivion and emptiness
    To declare myself a non-living creature striving to exist

    I pretend to appear as a living person
    Not revealing my mighty fantasy and extravagance
    No one calls my name anymore
    Although everyone sees me

    Who can wonder what will be in the fate of the world
    A realm of corruption and confusion
    Where deception is served as the holy truth
    And wisdom under the shape of violence

    I mystify my tragedy into my dreams
    Longings pierce me deeply
    Until I bleed my soul out
    Like an instantaneous rainstorm

    Invisible to everyone
    I wander in the night
    Where darkness and solitude are my solaces
    Probably envisioning everlasting love

    Sombre whispers become numbed sighs
    Nothing to cherish
    Nothing to forget
    Just instants of eternity lost in the infinite void

    Call me when you see me in your dreams
    Although you don’t know my name
    Having seen me as an apparition
    Soft is always the remembrance of you

    Sleeping as the slumber possesses me
    In its chaos and convulsions
    I feel nothing more than a gentle cry
    A cry to suppress my anguish and pang of love.
    Elisabetta

  • Under The Spell of Despair

    Under The Spell of Despair

    Under the spell of despair and distress, I fell into a slumber that dragged me to a realm of darkness and madness.

    Disquietude welcomed me like a soft petal falling on the frigid soil soaked with tears and blood in a domain where I had always been a nobody.

    The sound of a storm kept me asleep as I was under a dark spell of pain. Loving to be possessed by an anguish that was piercing and breaking me.

    A sharp blade stroked me just as an affection manifestation of my nightmares, visiting me like haunting spirits, leaving me bleeding my soul out.

    Decadent desires of lust grabbed my body, tearing me apart with their alluring viciousness, leaving me like a crushed rose whose blood stained red all over the garden grass.

    Faraway, wicked echoes of phoney oddities and curiosities claimed me as their biological creature and beloved possession of my early youth. They trampled upon my essence repeatedly until my soul dissolved into nothingness.

    Old forbidden secrets were kept inside my heart like decayed treasures made of rotten fondness. They made me feel like a butterfly without wings and without a name.

    And so, I became nameless and faceless, ensnared under the spell of despair and mortification, revelling in the triumph of decadence and the torment of existence.

    Floundering in the unfathomable depths of an ocean of dreams and illusions, I drifted endlessly, lost within their spectral embrace.

    In the end, I became a crimson blossom, sustained by the moonlight’s ghostly glow and the deception of my obscene dreams.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • A Long Night of Desires

    A Long Night of Desires

    A long night of desires and regrets beneath the infinite darkness of the firmament disclosed many dreams and secrets.

    And for each memory, a terrible ghost of the past appeared under the shape of an ominous shadow whose silent scream shattered every flower to dust.

    A fearless storm surrounded the night with its thunders and gloomy clouds, obliterating every trace of beauty from the realm of dreams and darkness.

    Giving way to nothingness and void that swallowed everything with an eerie fury.
    All that remained was a desert with scattered fragments of emotions and love.

    The moonlight lit flames of longing and despair, glinting like shattered glass, trembling with soft murmurs.

    Every blossom of the garden of distress flowered into a withered bloom, and each petal fell like a sour teardrop, dissolving into the sand.

    The inextinguishable emptiness exhaled its yearning across the barren universe, and its absolute silence swelled louder than the storm’s wildest cry.

    Hopes dissolved into the blank abyss like a river of lost dreams flowing to nowhere while love’s faint flames glinted, swallowed by the surreal dimness.

    Into the maze of sorrow, the eternal night became infinite and relentless, with its secrets buried beneath waves of grief.

    Glooms and clouds depleted all the frail remnants of light and joy, replacing them with immense anguish and decay.

    The long night of desires became an endless night of regrets when nightmares swirled around the world like haunting ghouls, tormenting every slumber.

    The infinite abyss of darkness extinguished everything, enclosing every faded memory of a realm once alive and now barely reduced to fragments of despair.

    A wailing blizzard agonised the desert of despair, dragging all the fragments of forgotten dreams and scattering the ashes of love that once burned radiant.

    The stars above, veiled by eternal dismay, became hollow gazes observing the doomed ruins below, becoming witnesses to a tale of a long night of desires devoured by the infinite chasm of oblivion.

    The firmament extended its icy and infinite arms, claiming all and leaving nothing but an absolute silence resounding as a boundless and eternal requiem for dead dreams.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Storm of Fire

    The Storm of Fire

    The storm of fire and water overcame the stillness of the night,
    Beneath a sky overcrowded with clouds and fire,
    A magnificent spectacle beyond every imagination,
    In the midst of the infinite emptiness.

    Darkness ruled this phantasmagorical realm of fantasy and reality,
    Where illusions and deception became the only reality,
    In a play of light and shadow beyond the visible world.

    Decadent longings blossomed like dead flowers,
    Waiting to be obliterated by the fallacious gleam of decayed stars,
    While every hope withered like smoke in the void,
    In the ephemeral realm of fleeting lusts and desires.

    Solitude and a melancholic nostalgia made sombre the sky,
    Where the moon wept silver tears upon the world of reality,
    Veiled by mantles of ash and forsaken sighs,
    lighting a requiem for dreams long buried.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Storm of Chaos

    The Storm of Chaos

    The storm of chaos and madness descended upon the world,
    Invisible and silent, its dangerous spell was cast,
    Like a doom of destruction and death,
    Its waves were made of hatred and despondency.

    Lost dreams in the emptiness,
    Were but ephemeral instants of joyful illusions,
    While the storm of chaos obliterated everything,
    No refuge was left for the uncautious dreamers,
    In a realm where even to dream was not conceivable anymore.

    Sorrowful angst and sadness grew like thorns,
    Among the silent stares of faint stars,
    A distant echo of lamentation whispered through the void,
    The mournful song of a world torn asunder,
    Beneath the weight of shadows, it could no longer bear.

    The sky, once alive with hope,
    Became a canvas of forsaken memories,
    Its immensity was an infinite depiction of dismay,
    Where every fleeting desire was drowned in despair.

    Mountains crumbled under the touch of a cruel spell,
    Turning to dust, like brittle crystal gems of forgotten epochs,
    The rivers dried, their waters devoured by the storm,
    Leaving behind barren wastelands, void of life and love.

    The wind, no longer a sweet embrace,
    Howled like a ghoul unleashed from the abyss,
    Carrying with it the sorrow of a thousand spirits,
    Condemned to wander in the darkness, forever lost.

    No sanctuary dwelled in this realm of devastation,
    Where yearning was an ephemeral ghost,
    And elation had long been exiled.
    Every corner was mesmerised by the storm’s fury,
    Even time itself began to erode,
    Shattered like a fragile mirror of a lost past.

    In the silence that followed the storm’s chaotic gusts,
    There lingered only the vestiges of magnificence and beauty,
    Wailing in vain for a deliverance that would never arrive,
    And still, none would respond, for the entire world had become insensitive,
    To the sound of frantic dreams and desires.

    There was no more dawn nor light,
    But only the dim glare of the dying stars,
    Whose feeble devotion faded into the cold grip of eternity.
    Indeed, the luminaries above dimmed and faded,
    As if they, too, could not bear to witness the obliteration below.

    The earth lamented beneath the weight of its sorrow,
    Cracked and scarred by the storm’s relentless clasp,
    An ethereal veil of despair threads through its very essence.
    Nothing remained pristine; nothing survived unscathed,
    Since the storm of chaos had devoured all it had struck,
    Leaving a hollow shell where once life had thrived.

    And as the last fragment of reality disappeared,
    A stillness, more profound than any before, descended,
    Wrapping the world in its frigid grasp,
    As the storm, pleased, at last withdrew,
    Leaving behind only emptiness and the eternal night.

    In this abyss of forgotten longings and shattered dreams,
    No tears were left to whine,
    Because the storm had annihilated everything,
    Its wrath left nought but ashes and whispers on the wind.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Storm of Doom

    The Storm of Doom

    The storm of doom had begun to roar,
    A thunder rolled upon the moor.
    The skies had grown black, the winds unchained,
    As darkness drowned the earth in the rain.

    The lightning had cut a jagged seam,
    A fractured night, a shattered dream.
    It had struck the tower, ancient, grim,
    A tomb for those who dwelled within.

    The windows rattled in their frames,
    The hearth’s flame flickered and then proclaimed,
    Its dying gasp in choking ash,
    While echoes of the lost desires had crashed.

    The walls had wept mould, the ceiling cracked,
    As shadows crawled from ancient tracks.
    Their forms were vague, their voices cried,
    A haunting wail that never died.

    Beneath the storm of doom, despair ruled in all its might,
    Devouring everything in endless nights.
    Its fury had fed on grief and dread,
    And sought the hearts of those misled.

    The ocean had churned in wrath below,
    As wretched waves crashed to and fro.
    The cliffs had eroded, the earth had given way,
    And night consumed the light of day.

    When silence fell and the wind subsided,
    The storm of doom retreated, but death abided.
    Its final sigh had been a chilling hymn,
    For those who had met their fate within.

    In the abyss where shadows and darkness crept,
    Arcane secrets awakened, and the lost souls wept.
    A dance of phantoms, sorrow’s choir,
    Ignited the aura with ghostly fire.

    They whispered tales of what once had been,
    Of lovers lost and ancient scars.
    In every crack, in every sigh,
    The dreams lingered and never died.

    The storm might have faded, but memories clung,
    In haunted hearts, they twisted and sang.
    For as the tempest faded from sight,
    The boundless night consumed every fading light.

    Euphoric and lush senses were only mirages in the imagination of dreamers who fell into oblivion.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Rain of Darkness

    Rain of Darkness

    Rain of darkness fell that night, black and thick as tar. It coated the windows, sliding down in slow, oily rivulets, obscuring the world beyond. The streets outside were nothing but shadows, swallowed by the heavy downpour that drowned out all other sounds. The wind howled like a beast in the distance, but its cries were muted, overwhelmed by the suffocating storm.

    Rain of darkness soaked the earth, turning it into a quagmire of mud and decay. Trees bent and creaked under their weight, their branches snapping like brittle bones. The sky above was an endless void, with no stars and no moon to guide the way. Only the relentless black rain, falling in heavy sheets, smothered all in its path. The scent of enigma and decay was melting in the damp evening air, weaving through the tangled shadows of an ancient forest like something dead and forgotten for a long time.

    Rain of darkness filled every inch of solid ground, choking trees and meadows with its oppressive presence as it ran through the forest. Each instant sank into the soggy ground, pulling dreams deeper into the mire. It suffocated the light, leaving only the faintest glimmer of hope trapped beneath the weight of despair. The path ahead was obscured, swallowed by the inky blackness of the storm. Nothing could be heard behind; the rain muffled every mortal trace, and it was still there, still relentless.

    A rain of darkness haunted the woods like a furious ghoul as the night stretched on. There was no shelter there, no safety in the depths of the woods. The storm would never cease, and it became perpetually a predator that would never stop. The rain would fall forever, drowning out the world until there was nothing left but shadows and darkness. And then, even the shadows would fade in the emptiness.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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