Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Tag: uncertainty

  • Weeping My Heart Out

    Weeping My Heart Out

    Weeping my heart out in the abyss of the night
    While dark shadows embrace me beneath the pale moonlight made of cold sorrows
    Teardrops carve my name, descending like rivers of woe
    I drown in the ocean of nightmares and death

    The stars have ceased to weep, after staring at the moon’s indifference
    And the wind whispers all my beloved secrets
    Singing the anguish that I keep in my treasure chest
    In my garden of grief where midnight rose

    Weeping my heart out in the stillness of a silent night
    When silence and sorrow prom together
    Echoing through the hollow halls of my soul
    And leaving imprints of longing and grief

    The dawn doesn’t dare to graze my tear-stained face
    Because I belong to the clasp of perpetual twilight
    I’m my weakness and chaos of catastrophe
    Being myself the most intemperate tragedy

    I’m darkness and night
    I’m an ethereal creature of the eternal darkness
    An extravagant flower glowing in the gloomy wilderness
    I love to disappear in the most remote places of my imagination

    Weeping my heart out, I find myself in a meadow of deception
    Where I cannot discern anymore what is real from what is delusion
    Hence, I surrender to the uncertainty of my overwhelming fate
    Unaware of my future demise

    I want to avoid thinking, for I live solely through my passions
    In a frenzy of madness and lust, I become a new creature
    An ephemeral ghost bound to a doomed destiny
    Floating between ecstasy and oblivion

    I take delight in dancing with the spectres of my forsaken desires
    Their strokes ignite flames upon my pale skin
    The night sky swallows the forbidden nectar of my tears
    While I vanish into the chasm of my own longings

    No sunrise will encounter me and no dusk will mourn me
    For I belong to the stillness of the midnight’s embrace
    As I become a shadow lost in the labyrinth of time
    A withering shade, devoured by the void within me.
    Elisabetta

  • Torments Are My Delight

    Torments Are My Delight

    Torments are my delight and bliss
    I love to feel a pang piercing my heart
    I love to pine for love devotionally
    I live only in my dreams like a fairy
    Flying lightly from one flower to another one

    I’m an ethereal creature belonging to phantasmagorias
    I’m a little spirit of the night
    My heart is avid of passions and desires
    In my secret garden of lush and extravagance
    Torments are my solace and mirth

    My fate is a turmoil of unknown chaos
    Not paying attention to my fears
    I live carelessly as every day is my last day
    My senses are intoxicated by the scent of extravagant flowers
    And let my body surrender to lust in my haven of lush

    I wear an exquisite and magnificent gown made of tragedy
    My ethereal wings carry me everywhere I wish
    In sadness, I find refuge under the shadows of ancient trees
    In joy, I relish pursuing my dreams of oddities
    Safety is not my favourite word in the dictionary because I adore nightmares

    Every night, I crave to be consumed by the passion of my darkest fantasies
    In the darkness, I burn with the desire to be pierced by agony
    Gloomy shadows whisper my name, enticing me closer
    As I feel an ecstatic pain, I hesitate to surrender
    I’m so lost in the euphoria of torment’s kiss

    Each sigh of mine is like a melody of forbidden delights
    When pleasure and pain entwine in an endless embrace
    I welcome the darkness as its touches are so exquisite and deep
    I become a creature made of fire and fiery lust
    A blaze burns my heart at every stroke

    Every kiss carves a searing scar of longing on my skin
    As a reminder of the desires consuming me whole
    And in the flames, I’m reborn like a blooming blossom
    Torments are my delight and I surrender to the sweet agony of my lusts.
    Elisabetta

  • My Blank Pages

    My Blank Pages

    My blank pages of life and stories teach me to embrace the enigma of my fate
    Whenever I think about my future
    I can only see blank pages of a book still to be written
    With my patience and perseverance, I try to love the unknown

    I always change mood like a cloudy sky that lets the sun shine through the haze
    Sometimes I feel like a flower that has been sunburned in the summer months
    Oftentimes I feel like a leaf falling from its tree under the influence of an unpredictable wind
    Everything around me is a reflection of my true self

    I always avoid mirrors to not let them swallow my soul
    Indeed, I am a perpetual dreamer whose real image appears through rhymes and verses
    I will never know myself for I’m an infinite abyss of mysteries
    And I even don’t aspire to get all the knowledge of this universe

    Always metamorphosing into someone new
    I wait for the time that doesn’t matter anymore
    As I see my shadow disappear beneath the night sky
    Wandering and getting lost in the forest of doubts

    I don’t have certitudes and I don’t know how to embrace my future
    Sometimes I believe that I love instability
    Sometimes I think that I have a predilection for blank pages
    I’m a blank page waiting to be written

    Paroxysm of emotions is my way of expressing my true essence
    I’m made of dreams and illusions
    I suffer unbearably and I love being delusional
    A romantic is never a loser but an eternal source of magnificence

    I will never bow to power and oppression
    I’m a free spirit and like a wildflower, I love to catch a glimpse of the sky
    While the pouring raindrops fall all over me
    I wait for my dreams to come true and for my heart to be consumed by madness
    As a book with blank pages, my inner senses yearn to be filled with both bliss and decay.
    Elisabetta

  • The Portal To Emptiness

    The Portal To Emptiness

    The portal to emptiness was waiting for me
    In hesitation and doubt, I didn’t feel any comfort
    I didn’t trust what I was seeing or hearing
    All I could be assured of was a feeling of uncertainty

    It was as if I was living one of my several lives
    Foolishly embracing my madness with such joy
    Even the wind was terrified by me in its impetuosity
    Being myself, a little tornado of intense emotions

    Left by myself in my extreme solitude
    I sought refuge from my overwhelming grief
    Grief towering over me like a monumental demon
    Making me an insolent creature of the night

    Chasing darkness, I have finally found myself deep
    On the ocean floor of my imagination
    In my realm of wonders and chimeras
    I desired to find my utopic idyll

    My dreams touched me night and day
    All over my body like soft strokes
    Fantasies pierced my heart making it bleed
    With their sweet and sharp daggers

    I became a crimson rose, with all my petals tainted by blood
    And pointed thorns as powerful as diamond gems
    Although I was crying for my freedom from my roots and cold soil
    I had to surrender to my slavery

    And I could only dream over and over again without hope
    I cried and sobbed like a winter storm
    And I felt needles stabbing all my petals
    Arrows of anguish and awareness of my impending decay

    Nothing anymore could have released me from my huge distress and dismay
    I was merely a red rose and nothing more
    One of the several red roses of an ordinary city garden
    Nothing anymore could have been important to me

    The portal to emptiness was in front of me
    And now, I was made of dust and decay
    Decadence was my name and like a butterfly pinned on a wall
    I remained still as a crystal rose standing on a barren earth.
    Elisabetta

  • The Labyrinth Of Dreams

    The Labyrinth Of Dreams

    The labyrinth of dreams
    Twisting corridors—endless—
    Shadows stretch—whispers?
    No sense—nothing makes sense—
    Lost, lost—where am I?
    Doors—open—close—
    Which way? No way—
    Every turn—a dead end?
    No—just another path,
    Another dream—
    Or is it a nightmare?

    Walls shift—breathe—
    Do they breathe?
    Or is that my mind?
    No—something else—
    The labyrinth of dreams is alive—
    It waits—
    For what?
    For me?
    Or something worse?
    I can’t tell—
    Everything blends—
    Dreams, nightmares—
    They are the same dreadful illusions.

    Fragments—memories—
    Pieces fall—
    Lost dreams—forgotten dreams—
    Where do they go?
    Into the labyrinth—
    Lost—like me.
    Wandering—
    Searching—
    For what?
    For an exit?
    There is no exit—
    Only more passages—
    More turns—
    More walls that shift,
    That trap.

    Turn—Turn—
    Is this the same hallway?
    Or a new one?
    I can’t tell—
    It’s all the same—
    Or is it?
    Nothing is real—
    Everything is real—
    Twisting—turning—
    The labyrinth of dreams never ends—
    Never ends—
    Where does it go?
    Nowhere—
    Everywhere—
    Lost in dreams—
    Dreams that aren’t mine—
    Or are they?

    Dreams… dreams…
    They unravel—
    Threads snap—
    Is this my mind?
    Or the maze?
    Who is dreaming?
    Am I?
    Or is the labyrinth dreaming of me?
    No way out—
    No way forward—
    Only the labyrinth—
    Only the dreams and the nightmares—
    Waking, sleeping—
    All the same here.
    Forever…
    Lost…
    In the labyrinth of dreams.
    A maze of my mind—
    A maze of other minds—
    It never ends—
    Twisting, turning—
    Into nothing. Into the abyss.

    Each step—
    Sighs—
    But are they my sighs?
    Or someone else’s?
    Shadows whisper—
    But what do they whisper?
    I strain to hear—
    Yet only silence answers.
    The labyrinth of fear shifts—
    Breathless—
    As if alive,
    Or alive with something—
    Something I can’t see.
    Familiar, yet foreign—
    Each corner, a new fear—
    Every turn, a deeper plunge
    Into the unknown,
    Into the endless maze.
    Lost forever…into the abyss of nothingness.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Infinite Darkness

    The Infinite Darkness

    The infinite darkness lay within each dream,
    Exquisitely bounding everything in the void,
    Fair enough to reveal secrets and arcana of realms that never existed,
    In the presence of the absolute silence of stars and luminaries.

    The infinite darkness betrayed dreams and nightmares,
    In their foolishness and ignorance,
    Like a tide rising from an unknown moonless sky,
    A silver and purple firmament whole of unlimited fantasies.

    Soundless clouds of dust and light were ignominious omens,
    Betraying delusional dreams and untamed emotions,
    Speculations of innocence and death similarly doomed wishes,
    Shrouded in the mist of uncertainty and regret.

    Blue glimmers of occult fantasies hid beneath illusionary visions of a blurred realm,
    Granted to infinite and limitless imaginations,
    Without questions or answers in the absurdity of the universe,
    Interruption of every beauty and sublimity.

    In the silence of stars’ eternal gleam,
    Shadowed longings of forgotten aspirations beckoned,
    Where phantoms of memories and forgotten desires entwined,
    Draped in the spectral light of a desolate eternity.

    Each whispered secrets with echoes of timeless despair,
    Lingering in the hollowed expanse of a cosmic night,
    Concealing the truth in a veil of endless stars,
    Crafting tales of sorrow, anguish, and eternal despair.

    Within the abyss of this boundless void,
    Ancient spirits weaved their silent magic tales,
    Bounded by threads of sadness and ephemeral delight,
    In the everlasting trance of the infinite dark.

    Unseen delights guided the ethereal blisses,
    Through realms where dreams and reality collided,
    Where every shadow held a promise and every light a lie,
    In the uncharted expanse of the deepest fears and desires.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Veil Of Perception

    The Veil Of Perception

    The veil of perception was shrouded by dark shadows,
    Deep in the abyss of the nothingness,
    Where whispers and sighs hid in their spasmodic secrecy.

    The veil of deception softly descended,
    Beyond the realms of sensibility,
    Where a universe of illusions and chimaeras lay.

    Ephemeral gleams of evanescence enlightened the labyrinth of dreams,
    A mist of melancholy and fleeting desires,
    Immortal light and darkness.

    The eternal mysteries glowed like luminaries flickering in the boundless expanse,
    Each star preserved untold tales,
    While silence concealed arcana.

    Enigmas shimmered in grace,
    Embracing the infinite darkness,
    Amidst the chaos of the cosmos.

    Veiled in shadows, perceptions trembled,
    In the abyss of whispered secrets,
    Where illusions and mirages melted in a myriad of fragments.

    Deception presided over the garden of beauty and bliss,
    Beyond the grasp of lucidity,
    Where dreams and reality blurred.

    Ephemeral sparks fleeted away from longings,
    Illuminated were the paths of uncertainty,
    Where light and darkness converged.

    Mysteries sparkled in graceful darkness,
    Embracing the enigmatic oblivion,
    Amidst the chaos of the void.

    Haunted truths remained elusive,
    Through the maze of obsession and despair,
    Silent spectres of uncertainty.

    The veil of perception cast a mystic spell,
    Drawing nightmares into its ethereal embrace,
    Where forgotten dreams lingered in the misty haze.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Agony Of Uncertainty

    The Agony Of Uncertainty

    The agony of uncertainty is my dwelling
    It was all I had written on a mirror
    A long sequence of characters
    Which I used to write
    And nothing further
    Forever and never
    I have been lost
    Striving to remember my name and my story
    Since I was born with a great devotion to art
    Such joy should be life
    Once everything has been forgotten with time

    The agony of uncertainty is a tree in the sea
    Where it is possible to be merry
    A moment has come to bear a perceived memory
    Like dreams repeatedly created and destroyed
    Each season and new year
    The time is past and never hides
    Torments are shortened by days and nights
    To avoid suffering and distress
    I might become pleased as I would pretend
    My past life never existed
    Becoming something imaginary

    The agony of uncertainty is a dark forest
    Where the wounds never disappear
    Only memories can unfold
    Looking onward and writing my dreams
    And all those unconcealed secrets
    That the soul keeps as the deepest memories
    The nightmares of the heart are lost in the dark
    The fate of dark stars is entwined in indifference
    The gloom of endless thoughts of sorrow
    Lost forever in a silent emptiness
    Which never dies

    The agony of uncertainty and pain
    Thereupon I move forward through the long desert of death
    Reaching more intention and joy
    My thoughts are made of fears
    Bleeding each time, I became wiser
    No hope was found in the devotion of love
    Instants of lust in the deepest silence
    Fretting about the decay of every bliss
    Dread should last forever in death
    When everything is lost
    The truth is the door of a new consciousness

    The agony of uncertainty and delight
    Always shining in an infinite reality
    My heart is truly sacred
    Beyond deception and mendacity
    Seeking the truth as an insight
    When no choice is granted
    The tears, like fright, lit the earth
    The grief within my soul is still alive
    I should not always be afraid
    Gifted with patience to keep
    My soul is bound to be naive.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Uncertainty Of A Lost Dream

    The Uncertainty Of A Lost Dream

    The Uncertainty Of A Lost Dream

    The uncertainty of a lost dream in the realm of the blankness
    In the most remote place of the imagination
    Where every soul gets lost in the labyrinth of the darkness
    When it seems that every hope vanished and every clarity had been erased
    The silence whispers all the secrets that hover in the ethereal
    Where the deception and the honesty blend together, creating a profanity of senses
    Confusion and bewilderment become the sweet refuge of the dejected souls
    Miserable is the foul frolic of the spirits that lost themselves in the maze of the stupor
    Like in an endless nightmare that might fade as soon as the hallucinations vanish away
    When the torpor ceases to feed every spirited soul, once the despair rules the realm of the imperceptible.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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