Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: survival

  • The Realm Of Absurdities And Contradictions

    The Realm Of Absurdities And Contradictions

    The realm of absurdities and contradictions
    A world of pure bliss and madness
    Where dreams get lost and illusions blossom like flowers
    And in the abyss of despair and fear,
    The anguish held me trapped by their chains,
    With which they cruelly clung to me
    In their realm of darkness and madness.
    I, with all my heart, sought a successful way,
    a means to survive those unjust torments,
    But in my hands, I could not find
    a path of salvation and hope.

    The chasm before me made me glimpse my death.
    My future was marked as if my time were numbered,
    as if I could not enjoy the small moments
    That touched my mind,
    because of torment and the certainty of perishing
    overwhelmed my heart and clouded my mind.

    Shadows surrounded my figure as if they could confine me
    to a territory that belonged to them,
    scrutinising me with their cold and cynical gazes,
    Speaking a language I did not understand
    and whispering legends whose secrets I would never know.

    The sound of footsteps following me
    brought to mind all those dreadful encounters
    whose wickedness tore away a part
    of my veil of innocence and integrity.

    The sound of out-of-tune music boxes and grotesque melodies
    created images of folly and paradoxes,
    for I found myself in the realm of absurdities and contradictions
    where beauty was usurped by horror
    and where integrity was usurped by corruption.

    In this realm of hanging trees and hieratic statues,
    fires and flames burned unquenched
    like the brilliant stars in the sky
    whirling swiftly in the firmament above me,
    illuminating the dry, hooked branches
    of a twisted tree beneath whose shadow I had lain.

    Absurdity had become the sovereign of my fate.
    I was now at the mercy of capricious winds and rather contradictory events,
    Just as my miserable existence was entirely controversial.
    Lisa

  • 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 Mask Of Illusion

    The Mask Of Illusion

    The mask of illusion hid behind an ephemeral mirth
    Whenever I tried to pick the sublime flowers of joy
    Pretending that I could be worthy of happiness and hope

    Only in my dreams, I could see my confined heart
    In a cage made of crystal and gold
    From which it could never be set free
    Because the destiny of my soul was doomed forever to indifference and distress

    That was the reason I fed myself with the poison of illusions
    Illusions hiding behind a mask of conventional pretences
    I’ve always loved lying to myself

    In the rush for survival, I forgot my real name
    Getting lost amidst the euphoric frenzy of fleeting instants
    I did let myself dissolve in the labyrinth of shadows

    The mask of illusion became deformed and heavier
    And underneath it, there was only a haze of darkness
    A void where once upon a time there was a glowing light

    Silence replaced hopes and desires
    And I forgot the sight of truth and reality
    The spell of bitter lies had enchanted me

    Hence, my despair grew deeper in the garden of thorns
    A secret garden where no flower of joy could ever bloom
    The mask of illusion and deceit sunk deep into the cold soil, made of fragments of shattered delusions

    No soul would ever find this kingdom of nowhere
    Impenetrable and invisible to ordinary sight
    This magic realm of enigmas and secrets concealed every untruth and illusion
    Though every fragment of it was woven from fallacies, for all the masks of illusion lay buried beneath

    Surprised no more
    I surrendered to the sweet lullabies coming from each flower
    With the certitude that I was one of my dreams

    Victim of my own hallucinations
    I wandered endlessly through the spectral haze of my illusions
    Surrounded by the decay of faded memories that lingered like lost ghosts
    Never to return to my forsaken reality.
    Elisabetta

  • I Lived In Death

    I Lived In Death

    I lived in death, and the death lived in me
    As long as memories were within me
    As long as I relied on my dungeon of darkness and dismay
    The daggers of betrayal stabbed my heart and soul
    Numbing my mind in an eternal slumber for a decade of decay

    Foolishness was my wisdom and guide
    For I forgot my name at a time without the time
    In the eternity of forgetfulness of myself
    Living forcefully without the intention of life
    Doomed to solitude, numbness and death

    And so I wrote my despair and desire for not being any more
    Prisoner of fate and false scenarios
    I pretended to live believing in other truths and myths
    A spell of death and violence was written on my heart
    Still not free from the cage of demise and darkness.

    I lived in death, and the death lived in me
    Trusting the undying spirits of deception
    Captivating my heart and soul like vultures
    Avid of my mystery and innocence
    Having been thrown into a cave with no way out

    Slumber was my only loyal companion in my non-life
    Slammed doors and broken windows and screams the constant guests of my trap
    Explosions and metal dust were falling over my realm of nightmares
    Dreaming of not dreaming anymore forever

    Falling into unloveable harbours of uncertainty
    Being unintentional and detached in my survival
    Nonchalant about the future as I was destined to vanish
    Secrets and memories were pinning me down like a fallen butterfly

    I lived in madness
    Pretending to exist in a phantom reality
    Striving to scream but without success
    I’ve been an embalmed doll, trapped in a glass cage
    Untouched by love.

    My heart and lips have been sealed
    By the pins of sovereignty and hegemony
    Waiting to be forever free I feast upon myself.
    Elisabetta

  • 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

  • The Abyss of Doom

    The Abyss of Doom

    The abyss of doom hunts me,
    Paving the way for my decay.
    Glorious illusions are not my guardians anymore,
    Hence, the darkness encloses me in a labyrinth of despair.

    The abyss of doom sees me wherever I roam,
    Wandering through a wild garden of wickedness,
    Surrounded by evil ghouls with burning eyes,
    Lonely and injured, striving for survival.

    I stumble through this forsaken realm,
    Where hope is a fleeting ghost,
    Fading into shadows with every step.
    The wind howls like a cursed whisper,
    Carrying with it the echoes of forgotten souls,
    Who once danced in the light,
    Now imprisoned in the eternal night.

    There is no mercy here, no salvation,
    Only the weight of my own dread.
    The ghouls laugh with hollow voices,
    Their eyes are aflame with the fire of my fear,
    And nevertheless, I press on through the thorns,
    Each step tears away the remnants of my strength.

    The abyss of doom knows my every thought,
    It feels my terror, my sorrow, my longing,
    For an escape that will never come.
    The sky above is blackened, choked with clouds,
    The ground below cracks under the weight of my despair.

    How long can I endure this torment?
    How far can one go when surrounded by spectres?
    The answers elude me, just as freedom does.
    I am lost in a maze where the walls close in,
    And every path leads deeper into oblivion.

    The flowers in this cursed garden are withered,
    Their petals fall like shattered dreams,
    Rotting under the harsh gaze of death.
    I cannot escape this realm of endless grief,
    Where each breath I take only brings me closer,
    To the abyss of doom that waits to claim me whole.

    And so I wander still, forever trapped,
    A soul adrift in the abyss of doom.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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