The abyss of death was in the deep valley of sorrows, a dark abyss where the light dare not tread,
Shadows entwined with nightmares, evoking the dead.
Time froze in the storm, beneath hollow spaces,
The silence was so heavy it swallowed each dream.
A gaze into the void was an unbearable dismay,
Each sigh and cry was just a reminder, and each silence enthralled.
The faces of loved ones, now phantoms, appeared like hunting ghouls,
Swirling through instants that once held them near.
All the fantasies that once blossomed in the gardens of innocence,
Now faded like the twilight, a flicker of deception.
Wanderers got lost through corridors of time lined with regret,
Haunted by spectres along the paths, a forgotten nightmare and sadness.
Inside the deepest despair and darkness, acceptance may have bloomed,
Death was but a doorway leading to a new world,
Where all of the tales, like rivers, were flowing,
In the mechanism of time, the merciless enemy.
In the abyss of death, no hope or expectations,
No choices, no rise and no fall.
No wisdom could have divined, through its chilling embrace,
Death was but an irreversible chapter, a doomed passage to another realm.
In despair’s cold grasp, shadows gathered,
Fragments of abandoned dreams were left bleak and hollow.
Each instant felt like the same surrender,
As hope dissolves into the ether of night.
Faint memories, mere phantoms of what once was,
They drifted like ashes on a relentless wind.
Time, a cruel jest, mocked the aching heart,
Turning warmth into mournful silence.
In the chasm of oblivion, there was no consolation, no reprieve,
Only the burden of regrets weighing everything down,
A suffocating reminder of what has vanished and could not return,
And the chilling truth that nothing remained,
In the abyss of death, all was lost, and none ever returned.
Esther Elizabeth Racah
