Fragments of vanished dreams were hidden in my secret garden, where I passed my nights crying bitter tears of grief and frenzy. Without a doubt, I was not surprised when the decrepit windows shattered as the impetuous wind made them sway in a rhythm that reminded me of a funereal elegy. The ancient clocks of my antique manor ticked each minute as if I were on the verge of waiting for some spectral visit to announce me dreadful revelations. And so the nights passed although I didn’t notice how fast time was proceeding since the day I lost all my cherished treasures, of which all that remained now were fragments of vanished dreams. Not enough tears could express the devastation devouring my heart viciously with a destructive passion. Affliction tried to softly soothe me as if the only way to embrace sorrow was to become despair myself with all the dismay I could possess. I wandered aimlessly near the small lake, which mirrored my mean-spirited mansion beneath the veiled countenance of the moon while hiding behind a shroud of dismal clouds. I desired so badly to smell the black flowers of vengeance, which adorned my garden once upon a time. Tired and torn my heart was aching with the utmost distress in the middle of a gathering of ghouls, which chaperoned me slowly like shadows from the Otherworld. No longer was I waiting for fate to alter the course of tumultuous events that ricocheted through my existence. My imagination was leading my yearnings astray into the abyss of oblivion, so discouraged by a chaotic mess of unfair fears. Alas, without any hesitation, I dared to attempt to free myself from that grip of oppression, but every endeavour of mine was in vain. Nothing had remained in the sacred place of my secret garden but fragments of vanished dreams, of which only memories faded by the mists of time remained to me.
Elisabetta Esther
Tag: vanished dreams
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Fragments Of Vanished Dreams
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A Shallow Melancholy
A shallow melancholy caught me in the labyrinth of torment and insomnia. My heart was pierced and disheartened by senseless whirlwinds of despair and anguish.
I didn’t know where I was headed, but I could only feel a tremendous intimidation inside myself. A vast, gloomy shadow wouldn’t allow me to see beyond the horizon.
I had no destination, and it seemed that I had no free choice to escape from that doomed fate of mine. The haze was so dense, and the night was so dark that I couldn’t find any portal to allow me to escape.
I screamed to the stars, but they refused to listen to my voice, and I was cast away from their gaze for eternity. The everlasting darkness granted me the utmost agony, and sorrow lulled me to a fatal slumber.
Although I cherished my dreams, they vanished into the ashes of decay. Solitude and loneliness had spellbound me with their sombre and mournful enchantment.
In a mystic aura, I was viscously bound to a magical realm of lost spirits and wicked wraiths, which whispered their laments to my ears.
I knew not who I had become and what my name was. So much confused and chaotic was the state of my heart that it sank deeply into the abyss of havoc.
I fell into ecstasy and bliss, enjoying my decay and every pang bestowed upon my heart. Hurt and frantic, I shed tears of bliss and elation.
My sobs and sighs broke the solemn silence that remained my most loyal companion in that kingdom of demise and chagrin.
Frenzy distressed me, and turmoil shattered my heart. I embraced the bitter emptiness, hovering like an ethereal creature in search of magic vaults and secret forests.
And there were no beginnings nor ends in the domain of the shallow melancholy. I dangled from spectral threads that drew me into my perpetual disintegration. And I lay there, claimed by the hereafter.
Elisabetta Esther