Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: tragic gothic fantasy

  • Phantasmagoric Fantasies

    Phantasmagoric Fantasies

    Phantasmagoric fantasies were my kingdom of infinity and eternity
    A divine refuge where I could fly freely like a fairy
    Whenever the storms of fear and dismay came upon me

    I craved love and devotion like a thirsty blossom seeking the rain
    Nevertheless, what I could find were relics of forgotten treasures and vessels of mystery
    Silence was the only sound I could hear during my lonely and endless nights

    My beating heart was full of spells and illusions, trying to fill the void with silly desires
    Although I had whispered my secrets to the luminaries glimmering in the night firmament
    I could listen to the time ticking as it slipped like heavy raindrops

    The flickering candlelight kept me warm while my heart sank in the gelid ocean of sorrow
    For I was exiled to an evanescent world
    Where everything was ephemeral and illusory

    As much as I clung to false hopes, nowhere was destined to ever become my beloved secluded niche
    For I was fated to wander evermore without any guidance or aim

    Quaffing arcane potions, I fed my soul with darkness and fire
    Perceiving my slow descent into the chasm of oblivion
    I became a fierce sorceress willing to face any kind of hazard

    Lost lyrics echoed in my mind as if they were fragments of my memories
    The suspense of my fragility made me shiver like a delicate flower under the touch of a frosty wind
    I got lost in phantasmagoric fantasies woven in my dreams

    For I was a dream myself, mesmerised by the beauty of my own imagination
    Shunning the bitter truth that my broken mirrors insisted on revealing to me

    I had always been made of illusions, even though my broken heart persisted in loving chimaeras and ghosts, sinking into the infinite abyss of nothingness.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Whimsical Chimaeras

    Whimsical Chimaeras

    Whimsical chimaeras blossomed in my garden of extravagant flowers and frantic trees. When the silent valley of dreams was crammed with forbidden hopes, the stars never hesitated to shine. In my delusional fantasy and secret inner world, I could be free from mortal dogmas, made of aberrant rules.

    Many nights I have wandered, embracing my silliness and bizarre turmoil. Foolishness was my only state of mind, and every portal could unlock for me. I wept, and I sighed, as if it were my only way to express myself. The cold night wind hushed my aching heart, filling it with fear and torment.

    The snow painted the soil with white crystalline hues, while my slumber had kept my heart from aching more copiously. I had lost the capability to listen to melodies, but all that I could hear was a fanfare chanting demise and downfall. My whimsical chimaeras had transformed into shadows and darkness.

    I had become a stranger in my own realm, which I couldn’t recognise any longer at all. I felt like I was deprived of all my delusional dreams, which I considered my only comfort and sweet haven. No candied flowers or chocolate-coated leaves prospered in my garden, which was now nothing but a land of frost and thorns.

    The reality had transmuted into a sharp sword, depriving me of every longing, for I had lost my strength to escape from that snare of descent. Melancholia burnt my heart, altering it into an everlasting torch. I encountered no compassion or tenderness, but pointed hooks of indifference and hatred.

    My heart was wrapped in thorns and quills, and it suffered copiously. Unbearable pangs crossed my body, inflicted by misery and dismay. Shallowness was prevailing, and what appeared noisier and phonier had replaced what was pure and magnificent.

    Darkness, together with the moon and the stars, was a cynical witness to every single occurrence. Silence had sealed my lips, and I was no longer able to utter a single sound. Definitely, my whimsical chimaeras were just a remote memory of my shattered mind.

    I was burying my dreams and my hope a long time ago, and fell victim to my delusional fantasies and absurd expectations. I was conscious of my decadence and that I would soon embrace my final demise. In that exquisite garden of bygone flowers, I lay in wait for my very last moment of mortal essence.
    Elisabetta Esther

  • Dreams And Tears

    Dreams And Tears

    Dreams and tears, in an age when night knew no end
    I dreamed while crying, my tears dissolving into faint shadows
    I was a sorceress obsessed with arcane spells and crimson flowers
    I was the most mysterious and elusive blossom in the garden of the eternal night
    Where I envisioned extravagant fantasies and alluring chimaeras
    I had become overwhelmed by darkness and obsessions
    My longings morphed into moths and ravenous incubi

    My obsessions consumed me in their dim realm of allure and doom
    I lay bare upon the damp and frozen earth
    Powerless as I was before the immensity of an ocean of nonsense and decadence
    Secluded in my alcove of turmoil, I passed my nights surrounded by nightmares
    Born to be the prey of my own folly
    When petals of frenzy pierced me like tiny thorns of despair
    Opening the portal to an obscure realm whose knowledge dazzled me permanently
    I was shattered and not inclined to see my own reflection in mirrors

    I felt the full consequence of my anguish on my chest
    As if a passionate spectre rested viciously upon my body
    While the snow caressed me, as if it were its purpose to soothe my languid soul
    My tears never left my face, descending onto the frozen soil and creating flowers of fire and darkness
    The crimson moon cast faint glimmers across the night sky
    Amid the chaos, the luminaries emerged in the shape of sparkling gems
    And the firmament echoed my name through the stygian abyss

    Suddenly, sulfurous and gloomy clouds concealed all the stars, enveloping the night in absolute murkiness
    All my dreams were burnt, and their ashes were buried beneath a gravestone
    I became infinite, and nothingness as well, surrounded by fiery flowers and garnet gems
    The everlasting flame within my heart was untamed and eager, like a feral creature
    And the night penetrated me utterly, a vicious presence of darkness.
    Elisabetta Esther

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