Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: subconscious

  • Teardrops In The Desert

    Teardrops In The Desert

    Teardrops in the desert of chaos and vulnerability were striking my face while the imperious sun was staring at me with its searing light, on the verge of overwhelming me.

    The long summer nights allowed me to indulge in extravagant fantasies since I had always been fond of dreams and rainbows. But, nevertheless, I couldn’t help myself from finding the right direction.

    The sun gave its place to the luminaries of the firmament, and I could perceive the feeble light of a lantern far away floating in the enchanted forest of my impossible dreams.

    I became a shadow of the night and I could see the stars in their eyes, as if I were their celestial companion in the lonely nightfall. Teardrops in the desert metamorphosed into sighs and whispers in the deepest night of my life.

    Without hesitation, I was tempted to embrace the chaos which was embedded in my heart, now that every delusional longing had departed from my dwelling. Hence, I strove for a stance on my fate, but I couldn’t see anything in my crystal ball.

    Even the tarot cards refused to spell the truth, although I had interrogated them so many times as the number of stars. My hymns had been cast away from me as punishment for my quest to obtain that certitude that I never acquired.

    Teardrops in the desert beneath my beloved moon flew like impetuous rivers at the sight of the twilight. Might I have been a brilliant star or a shy planet, I knew not. All I knew inside my heart was the sensation of a precarious destiny.

    As invisible as I became and as untouchable as I pretended to be, I melted in the forest of thoughts and fears as an untamed creature of my own realm made of fantastic dreams and fancy illusions.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • In The Abyss Of My Thoughts

    In The Abyss Of My Thoughts

    In the abyss of my thoughts
    I felt the shadows of my dark memories
    All over my dreams like hunting ghosts
    Feeding my fears with their perfidy

    I felt the chills of my terrible past
    Breaking my heart into a myriad of disillusions
    I begged my broken mirrors not to bring to life those remembrances
    Crowding my nightmares in desolate nights of anguish

    Everything now seems so different and irreversible
    My cries are full of tears of liberation
    Even though I cannot escape from the labyrinth of my mind
    It feels like my soul aches has become my radiance

    My nightmares came to be my companions
    I’m unbound from my ancestral ropes
    Nevertheless
    My soul is overwhelmed with a cloudy trepidation

    I strive to endure all those ghouls
    Surrounding me like unexpected ancestors
    Whenever they visit me by day and night
    Covering my fragile voice with their scary howls

    In vain, I begged them to definitely vanish
    But they came back over and over again
    Nothing could prevent them from visiting me
    And I struggle to welcome them as welcome guests

    In the abyss of my thoughts
    I rely on my hopes to linger like a lost butterfly
    While every storm tries to bring me back to the castle of blight
    Committed to the solemn oath of silence and forgetfulness

    In vain, I implored all the stars of the night sky to find a haven
    Not even the immense ocean waves were willing to listen to my concerns
    Whenever my heart aches, it echoes all over the universe
    Loneliness evolved into my only safe island of peace

    I wished I could continue to live inside my sparkling cloud of illusions
    I desired to be the princess of my dream kingdom
    However, there I lingered
    In the abyss of my thoughts.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • The Spell Of The Magic Night

    The Spell Of The Magic Night

    The spell of the magic night bound me to a deadly respite
    A slumber of shadows too deep to escape
    Under the siege of absolute silence
    Dreams whispered legends of ashes and decay

    I was facing all my fears and my subconscious
    It was like opening an ancient chest that long-time remained closed
    Disclosing memories enveloped in dust and grief
    Each emotion was a fragile relic, and each fearful thought was an erratic rhyme

    The consequence of my own darkness dragged me deeper
    As my shadows manifested like abandoned ghosts
    And I became a captive of the stillness
    As I came to be aware that the price of awakening was far too high

    Immobile I remained on my fancy bed
    Expecting my frenzy to embody the shape of one of my visions
    I longed to become an illusion adrift in the aether
    Like divine smoke rising from sacred incense

    My heart was pounding from the sinister noises above me
    It felt as though I lay beneath demoniac clouds
    Where wicked souls wove silent conspiracies against me
    The void inside of my heart consumed me

    I surrendered to the phantoms of my anguishes
    They were no longer my tormentors but silent companions
    In the vastness of my hollow night, my thoughts dissolved like torn silk
    Each thread was lost to sight into the infinite darkness

    I finally ceased to search for who I was
    Since I became a part of that quietude I once feared
    I hovered through each memory of mine
    I had become a vibration surrounded by the velvet darkness

    All that surrounded me turned into a silent garden
    Where hushed sorrow bloomed with invisible petals
    And dreams fell like shadowed snowflakes
    On the altar of my fading spirit

    I wandered like a ghost trapped in a hall of mirrors
    Indeed, I had become a phantom of my own making
    And I eternally remained trapped in my dreams
    Under the spell of the magic night.
    Elisabetta

  • The Yellow Rose

    The Yellow Rose

    The yellow rose is my beloved flower
    She watches over me like a star in a dream
    She is always there for me, listening to me
    I love my yellow rose, and she loves me

    In my loneliness, I shun every human shape
    My only refuges are poetry, literature, art and flowers
    I am so overwhelmed by life that I cannot comprehend the sense of my fate
    And so, I abandon myself to decadence and beauty

    Daydreaming is one of my favourite solaces
    I can fly whenever I wish with my imagination
    Avoiding facing a reality and a society I don’t understand
    Feeling always different from others
    I cannot avoid to fall into the valley of despair

    My yellow rose watches over me like a guardian angel
    She is actually my angel, and I protects me from nightmares
    In my secret and hidden garden made of secrets and enigmas
    Where I can lose control of my emotions and be myself

    Panic spasms shake me in my slumber, surrounded by the darkest darkness
    And I can barely breathe, feeling invisible chains around my neck
    And a poundage on my body like an enormous demon of the night
    A ghoul that afflicts my heart with its sharp spear

    The sound of the night birds awakes me in my bed
    And I don’t see anymore my yellow rose that was just an illusion
    A beautiful delusional vision of my subconscious
    I’m all alone again and nothing can protect me anymore

    All my life has been a majestic nightmare
    A nightmare made of violence and survival
    An agony made of horror and demise
    Where there was no place for dreams and hopes
    
    Being voiceless and invisible has been always my reality
    In an existence where I never wanted to be alive
    Being but a doll, half alive and half dead
    A manipulated and deceived doll

    The yellow was my deliverance and the only companion I had
    But she never existed, for she was the fruit of my illusions
    She was the shining star I had always dreamed of
    And forgetting about this life
    I continue to dream because I’m only made of dreams and stars.
    Elisabetta

  • The Garden of Nightmares

    The Garden of Nightmares

    The garden of nightmares was a wonder in the realm of fantasy,
    None could have touched the flowers of such an enchanting garden,
    Full of magic spells and arcane secrets.

    So oftentimes, it was the obsession of dreamers,
    Those who were aware of the potential dangers of such a magical place,
    Where thorns were welcome, and no scent would perfume its aura.

    Echoes of choirs singing ancient melodies revived that realm,
    A world that existed only in the imagination of the subconscious,
    A lonely and distant kingdom of beauty and torment.

    Not safe was incautiously confiding dark secrets in this hidden alcove,
    A garden whose meadows and trees were rooted in deception and betrayal,
    Leaving to luring desires the task of enchantment among luscious flowers.

    The garden of nightmares was a wonder in the realm of fantasy,
    None could have touched the flowers of such an enchanting garden,
    Full of magic spells and arcane secrets.

    So oftentimes, it was the obsession of dreamers,
    Those who were aware of the potential dangers of such a magical place,
    Where thorns were welcome, and no scent would perfume its aura.

    Echoes of choirs singing ancient melodies revived that realm,
    A world that existed only in the imagination of the subconscious,
    A lonely and distant kingdom of beauty and torment.

    Not safe was incautiously confiding dark secrets in this hidden alcove,
    A garden whose meadows and trees were rooted in deception and betrayal,
    Leaving to luring desires the task of enchantment among luscious flowers.

    In the garden of nightmares, each petal whispered secrets, wrapped in shadows’ embrace,
    While the moonlight danced softly, casting dreams on the night sky,
    In this garden, silence sang, a melody bittersweet.

    Where the vibrant hues of joy clashed with sorrow’s deceit,
    The aura was loaded with nostalgia; each whisper was a haunting sigh,
    Dreamers wandered through the maze, drawn to what might lie.

    Beneath the surface of beauty, where the heartbeats echoed slowly,
    A realm of contrasts, light and dark, where both delight and anguish grew,
    Yet, amidst the splendour, a red flag lingered near.

    For the siren call of yearning masked the lurking fear,
    Every bloom bore witness to a soul’s forsaken plight,
    Trapped within a labyrinth, lost between day and night.

    In the garden of nightmares, some dared to linger, intoxicated by the view,
    Chasing visions of a paradise where fantasies come true,
    But the thorns they had ignored drew blood from tender dreams.

    And this orchard of phantoms revealed its silent screams,
    Thus, tread lightly in the dusk where wishes intertwine,
    For within that haunting beauty lies a truth so hard to find.

    The garden, a mirror reflecting one’s innermost desires,
    A sanctuary of longings still set ablaze with fire.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Twisted Obsessions

    Twisted Obsessions

    Twisted obsessions of failed dreams,
    In the darkened corners of the subconscious,
    Where shadows unleashed dreams unwound,
    A world of obsessions, all alone.

    Whispers echoed through the sordid obscurity,
    Drawing wraiths to forbidden lights,
    A touch, a sigh, a fleeting glance,
    Lost in the thrall of a reckless trance.

    Desires stolen and broken, out of reach,
    Longings hidden, cruel and true,
    Yearning for those invisible chimaeras the day denied,
    In silent, shamed, and sleazy cries.

    Souls that sought what they should shun,
    Minds that ached for the undone,
    In a labyrinth of illusions and betrayal,
    Obsessions took their hidden refuge.

    A tangled web of despair and loss,
    A dungeon where dark passions bred,
    Haunted in a ghostly daze,
    Lost forever in a damning swirl.

    A gloom and spark remained amidst the chains of dissolution,
    On the deepest night, twisted obsessions ensnared all the dreamers,
    In an abyss of despair and fear with no turning points,
    Even if hope was not a lost cause.

    Twisted obsessions of gloomy fates were the cruel rulers of chaotic existences,
    Once again, they were reborn each nighttime,
    Under the influence of an uncertain order of arcane forces.

    Numbness and slumber remained faithful companions of painful reveries,
    Whenever the desire for despair and sorrow trapped every delight,
    In the midst of the chaos and unknown,
    A game of subjugation and delirium.

    Twisted obsessions and sad insanities,
    Danced on the edges of broken hearts,
    Feeding on the remnants of the soundness of mind,
    Spinning tales of endless binds.

    Sighs of broken promises were released,
    Only to fall into the most profound distress of the night,
    Where shadows became the only lonely and friendly essences,
    And the sun’s happiness was out of sight.

    In such a realm, where reality was fractured,
    Dreams and fears became a forest of drear,
    A fictitious masquerade of hopes defiled,
    By the weight of twisted time.

    Indeed, in the heart of this desolation,
    Every gleam of delight faded away,
    Souls were swallowed by the dark embrace,
    And lost dreams continued to fray.

    Twisted obsessions, relentless and cold,
    Fractured every delight into a shattered mould,
    Leaving behind a void where hope had once dwelled.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • An Apathetic Wonder

    An Apathetic Wonder

    An apathetic wonder at the sight of all the future catastrophes
    A meaningful fear traps me and pulls me into the abyss of obscurity
    Ghosts and spectres are my eager companions
    Being in many places in one day
    Travelling time quickly in a preternatural form
    A glare of light and fire pretended to scare me
    Everything was a dream of a vision
    And suddenly, the present night appears
    No more complaints when the world would outcast

    An apathetic wonder like a golden morning candle
    For another cold scent of winter
    When the rain does not stop pouring on the streets
    In the heat
    And my blood is frozen like the winter snow
    The beautiful colours of stars become flowers
    All of a sudden
    A mystery which never existed has been the truth on earth
    Trying to forget distasteful memories

    An apathetic wonder of the sky
    Every time a desire becomes complex
    Every moment of happiness and sorrow
    It cannot happen again
    An opportunity for the mind
    Incurable wounds of the soul
    Nothing but excellent astonishments
    The water is everywhere, coming from the blue
    Creating a vast ocean of tears and sighs

    An apathetic wonder
    Being busy living within my soul
    Those ancient memories
    From every place of my mind
    Passing along with my own dreams
    The sky is pure and dark
    A lovely gloomy air
    Where I cannot perceive any colour or sound
    During an infinite journey in my subconscious

    An apathetic wonder in a light storm
    Winged like nothing else
    My words fly away
    Toward a remote invisible place
    Where every kind of bliss and pain was dwelling
    Once the sun was gone
    As a gilded sign of merriment
    And red roses were made of silver and gold
    My heart could not beat anymore in delight
    Because my dreams were open doors.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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