The storm of chaos and madness descended upon the world,
Invisible and silent, its dangerous spell was cast,
Like a doom of destruction and death,
Its waves were made of hatred and despondency.
Lost dreams in the emptiness,
Were but ephemeral instants of joyful illusions,
While the storm of chaos obliterated everything,
No refuge was left for the uncautious dreamers,
In a realm where even to dream was not conceivable anymore.
Sorrowful angst and sadness grew like thorns,
Among the silent stares of faint stars,
A distant echo of lamentation whispered through the void,
The mournful song of a world torn asunder,
Beneath the weight of shadows, it could no longer bear.
The sky, once alive with hope,
Became a canvas of forsaken memories,
Its immensity was an infinite depiction of dismay,
Where every fleeting desire was drowned in despair.
Mountains crumbled under the touch of a cruel spell,
Turning to dust, like brittle crystal gems of forgotten epochs,
The rivers dried, their waters devoured by the storm,
Leaving behind barren wastelands, void of life and love.
The wind, no longer a sweet embrace,
Howled like a ghoul unleashed from the abyss,
Carrying with it the sorrow of a thousand spirits,
Condemned to wander in the darkness, forever lost.
No sanctuary dwelled in this realm of devastation,
Where yearning was an ephemeral ghost,
And elation had long been exiled.
Every corner was mesmerised by the storm’s fury,
Even time itself began to erode,
Shattered like a fragile mirror of a lost past.
In the silence that followed the storm’s chaotic gusts,
There lingered only the vestiges of magnificence and beauty,
Wailing in vain for a deliverance that would never arrive,
And still, none would respond, for the entire world had become insensitive,
To the sound of frantic dreams and desires.
There was no more dawn nor light,
But only the dim glare of the dying stars,
Whose feeble devotion faded into the cold grip of eternity.
Indeed, the luminaries above dimmed and faded,
As if they, too, could not bear to witness the obliteration below.
The earth lamented beneath the weight of its sorrow,
Cracked and scarred by the storm’s relentless clasp,
An ethereal veil of despair threads through its very essence.
Nothing remained pristine; nothing survived unscathed,
Since the storm of chaos had devoured all it had struck,
Leaving a hollow shell where once life had thrived.
And as the last fragment of reality disappeared,
A stillness, more profound than any before, descended,
Wrapping the world in its frigid grasp,
As the storm, pleased, at last withdrew,
Leaving behind only emptiness and the eternal night.
In this abyss of forgotten longings and shattered dreams,
No tears were left to whine,
Because the storm had annihilated everything,
Its wrath left nought but ashes and whispers on the wind.
Esther Elizabeth Racah
