The endless tale about an invisible realm,
Visible only to dreamers and naive souls,
A realm of deception and illusions,
Where darkness ruled supreme,
And silence never undisclosed the arcane secrets of the universe.
Its roads were paved with broken mirrors,
Reflecting the scattered shards of countless forgotten dreams.
Beneath the frost, indifferent stars and shadows danced,
Whispering ancient lies that twisted through the wind,
Their voices echoed like distant cries of lost hope.
Time moved differently there, or perhaps it did not move at all.
Days bled into nights without distinction,
And the luminaries hung suspended like pale lanterns,
Flickering with memories of worlds long faded.
Here, the veil between hope and despair grew thin until it disappeared.
A faded mist drifted across the crooked paths,
Concealing passageways that led to nowhere,
Indeed, beckoning the curious to wander and lose themselves,
To seek truths that vanished as soon as they were touched,
Slipping like smoke between trembling fingers.
Forgotten phantoms wandered endlessly,
Their eyes were unextinguished flames, their whispers dreadful sighs with longing.
They reached out with transparent claws to seize what could not be held,
For this realm was not made for the mortal,
But for those who lingered on the edges of the unseen.
A temple of silence stood at the heart,
Its arches bending under the weight of unspoken grief,
And within, an ensemble of shadows sang in voiceless laments,
Their songs were an elegy for every soul that strayed too far.
No light entered, nor did it ever escape.
This fantastic realm stretched out infinitely, without borders, without end,
An abyss of ethereal reflections where nothing was as it seemed,
And every path led back to the same place—
The beginning of an endless tale, forever retold,
Of an invisible realm that lured all who dared to dream.
Esther Elizabeth Racah
