Tag: Tombstones

  • Delusional Expectations

    Delusional Expectations

    Delusional expectations in the midst of the night,
    When the most profound silence enveloped every corner of the realm of reality,
    The solitude ruled the entire realm of arcane and magical dreams.

    Darkness and light were both present in a frolic of magic spells,
    Flowers and trees grew taller every night, relying on desires and deceptions,
    Along the banks of rivers of oblivion.

    Remembrances fell down on cold soil like dead leaves,
    Making the noise of tombstones on forgotten graves,
    Echoes of souls lost in the void,
    Calling from beyond, where time no longer reigned.

    Shadows stretched their domain for every whisper of the wind,
    Dancing beneath a pale, evanescent moon,
    As the night creatures began to sing their silent melody.
    Fate lingered over every sigh and lament,
    As the boundary between dream and death blurred into obliviousness.

    Ephemeral phantoms wandered beneath twisted trees,
    Their hollow gazes fixed upon the distant stars,
    Which no longer offered promises of mirth or hope,
    In fact, they provided only a reflection of their despair.

    The scent of decay drifted through the air,
    A reminder of the countless stories left untold,
    Forgotten by the living and the dead.
    Yet, within this realm, they lingered,
    Bound by the remnants of a magic long since faded.

    In the centre of this spectral realm,
    A lone figure stood amidst the expanding dark,
    Cloaked in glooms, their sights filled with silent yearning.
    They scrutinised the cycle of night’s dominion,
    With no solace in the rising of the dawn.

    The river’s slow current carried away forgotten remembrances,
    Washing them clean of all the pain and sorrow,
    Only to return them once again,
    Draped in the midst of eternity’s frigid embrace.

    Delusional expectations blossomed in this endless twilight, like dreams of deliverance,
    They were no more than other illusions,
    Further delusions wrapped in the silence of the night.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Ghosts Of Yesterday

    The Ghosts Of Yesterday

    The ghosts of yesterday hid beneath the weeping willow tree,
    Where shadows danced in eerie spree,
    A graveyard silently mourned the dead,
    With whispered secrets softly revealed.

    The moonlight cast a spectral glow,
    On tombstones lined in solemn rows,
    Each name had a story carved in stone,
    Of lives now lost, of souls alone.

    In this cold ground, they found no rest,
    Their spirits were heavy and oppressed,
    They wandered beneath the mournful skies,
    With hollow hearts and tearful eyes.

    Once vibrant lives, now dimmed by time,
    In spectral plays, in mournful rhyme,
    They lingered everywhere in silent grief,
    Their only solace was autumn’s leaves.

    The nights grew long, the days were few,
    And shadows lengthened, taking hue,
    In this place where time stood immobile,
    The air became cold with winter’s chill.

    A figure dressed in gloomy grief,
    Sorrow etched upon their face,
    Weeping for love that slipped away,
    For dreams that died in disarray.

    A fleeting life in empty nights, in endless despair,
    Lost in echoes of forgotten longings,
    Grasping at shadows that vanished in the air,
    Yearning for solace that’s never there.

    They haunted the night, they haunted the day,
    In endless search, they found no way,
    Their whispers chilled the autumn air,
    Their presence was felt but never there.

    During the long walks through this dark place,
    Beware the ghosts, their sorrowed grace,
    For in their eyes, there will be fears,
    In their whispers, there will be tears.

    In this desolate land of endless grief,
    Each memory served as a thief,
    Stealing joy, sowing woe,
    In a place where only shadows grew.

    The wind carried their mournful sighs,
    Through moonlit nights and cloudy skies,
    An eternal flow of grief and sorrow,
    Where no dawn promised a brighter tomorrow.

    The ghosts of yesterday forever dwelled in this arcane realm,
    Trapped in their own eternal misery.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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