Tag: woe

  • The Invisible Sparkle

    The Invisible Sparkle

    The invisible sparkle in a world that doesn’t exist yet,
    Like a flower suffocated by the gelid winter snow,
    Struggling cries of a dream forever stilled, unmet,
    Trapped in shadows where the winds won’t blow.

    A sigh drifted in the void’s hollow sound,
    A glimmer of the sublime that was never born,
    Silence shattered what’s yet to be found,
    A seed of light faded into the abyss, torn.

    A fleeting pulse from a heart too broken to repair,
    A thread of hope tangled in despair,
    Draped in the veil of the endless night’s hold,
    Fading into nothing, lost to the aether.

    In this pointless realm where illusions had become a reality,
    Unseen suns refused to rise or fall,
    A phantom dream trapped in twilight’s will,
    Its presence was known, yet not at all.

    For what existed without a trace,
    What flickers yet was never there,
    Could time revive its fleeting grace,
    Or would it die in hollow air?

    The flower crushed beneath frozen skies,
    Yearning for a spring that would never come,
    A sparkle dimmed in eternal disguise,
    The silent whisper of a life undone.

    Its scent forgotten, its petals closed,
    In a garden where nothing dared to bloom,
    A magic world where the future’s doors were forever closed,
    And the past lay buried in the gloom.

    The invisible sparkle flickered no more,
    A light that faded into the unmarked night,
    Lost in the pages of an unwritten lore,
    A shadow swallowed by eternal delight.

    The frozen winds still howled their song,
    In a dwelling that never came to be,
    And in the silence, lost all along,
    The invisible sparkle faded to memory.

    In the void of a forgotten dream,
    Where the eternity itself unravelled slowly,
    Dreams and fantasies vanished in flow,
    But only shadows knew their woe.

    The invisible sparkle, long since gone,
    Left no mark, no trace, no song.
    In stillness, it forever lies,
    A ghost beneath the unseen skies.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Mirror Of Astral Woe

    The Mirror Of Astral Woe

    In the mirror of astral woe,
    Reflections of the soul did show.
    Not faces, but the shadows of thoughts,
    Woven into a cosmic knot.

    Each glance revealed a spectral tale,
    Of existence where truths turned frail.
    The mirror’s surface, a gateway to fears,
    Where the self was lost in forgotten years.

    Through its glass, the void stared,
    Revealing the soul’s deepest despair.
    Each reflection was a whisper of the infinite,
    A gaze into the abyss, where darkness split.

    The mirror reflected not what was seen,
    But the essence of what might have been.
    In its depths, the astral realm’s sorrow grew,
    A mirror to the soul’s darkest view.

    In the shadowy realms it held,
    Unspoken dreams and fears rebelled.
    Each fleeting vision, a ghostly parade,
    Of regrets and desires that never faded.

    Through the silken haze of the mirror’s sheen,
    Spectres of what was, what might have been,
    Danced in the void, where shadows spun,
    A spectral waltz, where past and future ran.

    The mirror’s surface shimmered with cosmic light,
    Reflecting the pain of eternal nights.
    In its glass, the truth lay bare,
    A portrait of despair woven with care.

    Lost souls wandered in its depths,
    Seeking solace in forgotten dreams.
    The mirror of astral woe, an oracle of desires unfulfilled,
    Showed the fractured longings, forever stilled.

    Each glance through its surface revealed,
    A truth too hostile to be concealed.
    The mirror, a portal to endless regret,
    Held the sighs of desires unmet.

    In its heart, the astral woe persisted,
    A reflection of the soul’s dreams, twisted.
    Each vision was a lamentation’s cry,
    A whisper of the self, destined to die.

    The mirror’s glance, both cold and cynical,
    Showed reflections both dark and whimsical.
    In its depths, where illusions lay,
    Reflected the tears that never dried.

    The mirror of astral woe, an endless scroll,
    Revealed the fragments of fractured dreams.
    In its depths, where every glimmer faded,
    The mirror revealed secrets never laid.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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