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My own growth comes from a deep realization of loss of life, whether
its
at my own hands or by another, I’m skewed emotional & left questioning my own intellect, I live until it’s time to go & continue to be proud or apologetic for
my own extreme nature.
https://www.amazon.com.au/Killing-Philosophy-Philosophical-questions-affirmations-ebook/dp/B07MFFP2Y3/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1550527659&sr=8-3&keywords=darcy+prince
Seemingly alive, in perpetual longing time, burden with emotions, joy stops, pain is felt. Thinking mind relentless, I’m an entire generation as singular individual. Heat rises, sounds amplified, rooms seem smaller when I step in, life dares me to forlorn not to live. It has no remorse. Morals and ethics, human. Beauty? No love found. No love lost. The burdens of living, twisted. Soundless, slow, precise and shafts of hope that is really false. Complete poetry and thinking philosophy. I am alive. Despite of everything.
https://www.amazon.com.au/Inherent-Sin-Darcy-Prince-ebook/dp/B07FR5FW42/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1538518619&sr=8-2&keywords=darcy+prince
Pyramids, eyes, people and mixed races, tall, lean, red eyes, interstellar. Rain does not happen here, plains of san, heat and trading with different planets. Twilight slopes. Humanity now, since making contact, everyday progressing one hundred years each day. Transfixed on wisdom. I wonder around, hearing different languages, strange signs and golden objects. Dogma, religion and any deities have no meaning but philosophy still has. The Masons are the closest there is to religion. Some of the peasants believe that Zion had arrived as the elite profits, with the behind the scenes still mold reality, the air still reeks of paranoia and the way reality presents itself, there is more still need to be found. And my travels are alone, running till my legs give-out, but I don’t cry anymore, I don’t even want to die anymore. On the outskirts of civilization, I mediate, preparing my entire being to bust out and Illuminate those willing to let me in. Complex, metaphor and metaphysical, I’ve awakened myself and reached to a point where I need to share myself. Not to save them, but to increase the quality of life as time spent together. I blossomed in a self-induced void, grew sick and tired of it and fought my way out. I’m stepping out as I stepped close to the neo-capital of Egypt. Unity now, since the war had settled and dust feel, like dew on a winter morning.I dressed the same so I wouldn’t stand out and walked silent, so they won’t be noticed with my varying accent. Humanities professed beliefs is always different from their daily actions performed in each moment they live, it’s why so many complan about it, while forgetting to change themselves first. I stood to the side, it’s been marked for me to wait, no longer on death row. Vibrating anticipation, wondering where my contact is? I laugh now, seeing all those lizards walking around now and accepted, considering the amount of years the theory about them was being laughed at. The jokers never are remembered. I assume they’ll take at least an hour. I veil my face when I see the police enter the same alleway as I am waiting in. they walk straight to me, clinch their hands and point right at me, telling me what's my business waiting here for, I gesture that I’m mute. Didn’t buy. Throwing me to the way and checking my pockets. I carry nothing besides common crystals. I feared what they’re going to do next. They rip my clothes, exposing my tattoos. They laugh. And any crowd that had formed had dispersed, silence hits then they draw their guns. Crazed fluorescent lights, cholera flowers bloomed from the sand we stood on. I spoke their language, reciting the words I had for the connection I’m waiting on. They didn't reply, just asked me to follow them. Mortal now, immortal later. Stretching my soul. The only way to spoil reality is to be immortal. We arrive at some obscure spot, where only Egyptian Gods dwelled, everything is cleaned and well groomed. No one started at me, by now I felt safe enough to let down my veil. Coming through like the wind. They sit me down, across from the throne. I can’t tell them yes, if they don’t ask. All the servants leave and police leave. A string of violin music replaces every sound here on earth. Finally the Pharaoh steps out, alone, in a violent way, puffs out his chest and instantly makes eye contact with me. I do what I need to do. I undress, exposing my **** body and my tattoos. Sitting down about one hundred feet between us. The Pharaoh sinks into a rest and relaxes his manner. I step forward……………………………….enter via behind the curtains.
No concern for the frowning faces, even though some expressed sadness with their teardrops, frantic moods in rushing vision based thoughts, encouraging me to leave. And it’s alright to rip their hearts apart. To who I praise is the bearer of light that can illuminate any individual. With no delusion I devote myself by choice too, because to the contrary I’ll be enslaved to morals that are predetermined with no freedom to move around in. lurking in my dreams, still when I’m waking, I’m alive in forever. It’s calming in the abyss, providing space to meditate, turning hour clock pouring down the sand grains as a representation for how long Lucifer had been fighting for the hearts of humanity. The only deity one can meet before my timely earthly death. Hope you don’t get mad at me, I told him you have dreams to be fulfilled, he says he’s looking for foot soldier, knows they can but won’t say ‘no’, told him how much you like it from behind.
(checkout some of my current publications on Amazon. Just search 'Darcy Prince'
Moods erupt internally like if embers
turned to lightning, sparkling fireflies
wanting to turn permanent marble burning
fires that fuel passion. Lungs breathing
out poetry as it’s supposed to live when
reciting. Ripping the wind open, both
echos in whispers and loudness like
thunder booms. In deepening weight, leaving
homage for future generations in humanity.
Taking scents of strawberries and in drenched
of mysticism. Velvet stain lodging in minds
of the capable thinkers and spat out new
philosophy in response to that poetry from
a unknown pair of lungs. Let everyone
revolt against current standards and permit
a new way of living. As myth turned to reality.
Just remember, the most common face can hide the most sinful acts of humanity. And generally no worse the rest of us. For any evil to be accepted, one must spend time demoralizing it in the public sphere. Let it become normal. Remember, ignorance is bliss and Lavey first Satanic sin is in regards to stupidity. For most, morals and ethics are for the others in suits and one’s in isolated libraries. For it at times, monotonous, boring, lowkey, faceless and holding no emotion. In a fog, you can buy a gift for a boy, jumping joy and wagging tail, to which lives in amazement, as smiles from friends, surprised to see crime in the streets as no one places value on education. Do not judge the one who preaches evil, but judge on the size of the mob and every individual there. Anyone in modern age can be anything, including a higher power and veiled pagan attributes. Evil is cannot be cured with evil, as it eats on the same table as you. As a Satanist, I am my own hero and greatest enemy. If I contribute to reality, that is my only connection to a larger society. For both goodness and evil is relative. People work, people live, people love and people cry. Nothing in this world people hold more dearer to their hearts than the things they had worked for. As for that, it is where evil will value. To be completely successful in this life, requires a lot of ego and more ignorance, when it’s too late, your soul had been lost.
https://www.amazon.com.au/Inherent-Sin-Darcy-Prince-ebook/dp/B07FR5FW42/ref=sr13?ie=UTF8&qid=1532992472&sr=8-3&keywords=darcy+prince
Finding love is to find unfamiliar beauty, noble and true,
pure in the eyesight, throughout duration before death,
a beauty that demands indulgence and conquers one’s
personal soul, their total being, consumed in every
pocket of essence. Stronger than the Devil. Oh lover,
I’m being torn apart beyond violent sobs in the corner
alone. In genius ways, it's like I’m being applied to evil
for when I’m cursed to be not around you. I vowed to
never write poetry again, if you accepted my hand.
Until then, I’m sure you’ll enjoy master of this world.
As the Devil runs riot and commits himself to his
own death, no longer able to rule earth.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BtS0z4J0UWE
SHE
Her, a silent twilight, alura of lights, glitter outside
from the in. A sublime way, letting go of her own
queenness, surpassing poetry and any narrative
of symphony. Thought ballet tried to replicate.
Belonging only to herself, for herself and none other,
than the chess game of mind, body and soul.
Musical actions, outgrowing sentimentality. Modern art,
portrait paintings, clanker's orchestra. Mystical
in fluid literature, writing such as these, potent poetic
prose. To where she won’t notice, nor even care.
Mother to art. Sister to romance. Regal without effort.
Harmony in thy soul. Because her breathe is harmony
in this world. Where this earth or matrix, perhaps
isn’t as sinful as I thought. (I repose from spells,
there is a belief in love and romance that sparkles
in this world as poetry.)
NEO
Cliche beginnings, eye catching glances, images layed over heart, ****** lust. Touching civilization. Constant linage over time. Felt and now posed in forever. Flamed passions, wild hearts, glaring from the eyes.
Heaven smiles. Earth blushes.
No longer to argue with society, protesting against, never. Inclined to give in. Forgetting about the normality of life, where others suffer. Love left to experience as something happens to others is sill and thought dripping poetry, is now one’s own hands. A souls liberty. Dream fulfilling. Intimate moments. Mimicking poems. Glowing engagement between two.
If it’s told in theatre, proposals for immortality.
Shocked and accidental.
No sense of possibly returning.
For they are not who I had expected. Neo. How saving hee, never. Oh how love deems and falls, melting over one, like gold over marble. For I never asked, dreamt of, or even yearned for. Though they are there and I cannot turn away.  
Normal in love.
Different outside the normality of where we both come from.
Whimpering without, like a child
and I roar when she’s around.
Feeling utterly untouchable, brave to be thyself as we experience contentment.
Poetry follows but will never emulate.
(knowledge variable)
To be in pursuit in my own destiny, to break away
from my dreams. Proclaiming my inner world as
my state. Land walked over. Vagabond. Lusting
for experience. Haunting now. Haunting never.
I’m breaking the narrative of society and made
something of myself. Poetry that I write, is a
different story. Truth be told, its in order to grab
attention from thy lover.
(knowledge variable)
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