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Starched thoughts written in poetry, cold in it’s sober sensation, internal landscape inside flushed emotional states, it's a bullet in my soul.
A kiss to part from my past, it’s fatalistic but yet I have not forgotten it. I’m a slow burn shimmer, unveiling with my beauty and value.
Vaulting now, open when wanted for I never need to now.
https://www.amazon.com.au/Inherent-Sin-Darcy-Prince-ebook/dp/B07FR5FW42/ref=sr12?ie=UTF8&qid=1535754370&sr=8-2&keywords=darcy+prince
I’m insisting to live a meaningful life,
hear nothing but angst, allowing me
to believe that shallow takes are meant
to be, selling myself short, vape smoke
battling smoking ancient Heavenly,
criticism over coffee, dreaming while
in the mundane, aspiration to reclaim
myself, I need to get myself alone,
it’s where I've started from. Meditate
to flatter life’s graces and hope in those
prays, life deems acceptable and able
to live at thy-will.
Why must I be hard-headed?

I’ll come through with guns, **** around and riot in your life. I spit up for-real, get up and feel, because it’s real. No emergency calls allowed. A lot of men are heated, but most stay bluffing. Society wants to duck tape and **** me, Demons telling me they hate me. Keeping you running, hollering on the roof, like the werewolf, my Muse gave me permission to let my will be done with no consequences. **** mystics, ****. Death has been always on my mind, ever since sobriety had been master. For I’ve been through phases in order to find myself, finally stumbled upon the crossroads. Saw nameless faceless, who experienced mindless violence, take my breathe, give me death, give me rest, I’m going to live on when I die, when I do, I want to be a living legend outside folklore. Feeling no more pain. Masonic learning, Masonic magic, my third eye can peer into yourself, bleed from the mouth and see visions of hell inside. A heart of soldier, with the brains to teach a whole nation. My hands on your hips, no time to *******, **** your boyfriend I want love tonight. I dare those boys to shoot in open fire, even at point blank range, real Mystics don’t die, they just multiply. Woman, come creep with me, you know I can keep a secret, but we got to be blood in, blood out. Bury me, it’s what they all said once, my personal past, I was once like them, cause they wanted me to be just like them, but I changed into myself and parted from their lifestyle and no retaliation is a must. Even it sparks a holy war.
Shot at me five time, so I joined a gang, they never preach loyalty, just act on it. Put their knife through your six-pack. Admit it, life isn’t want you wanted. My pursuit of Masonic knowledge is greater than my shortcomings. Anxiety is my phantom ache. My flaws are my horrors, I’m in forever to sort them out and have my mind learn how to master them all. Because my soul is boundless of its own landscape. Poets, painters, writers and cinema glory, in exile and unnoticed. Against all odds, shall expose people's personal secret. Hush now. You’re living in fantasy. I take Demonic mythology serious, cause it’s proven fact. Tell yourself whatever you want. There is no justification of you breathing in the wind freely and walk on this earth surface with no purpose. Known for flashing and little substance, the weak’s meaning to life, is to justify the strong. Awkward and heavy. Touch one of mine, I will destroy everything you love. If the cops come and get me in the morning silence, my Masons will rush the station by the evening with guns drawn. War is cheaper than the court systems. I’ll be the real, breathing or dead. People who don't rhyme right, seen too many movies. Before, I feared death and saw only demons. Angels battle them within me. The treachery of a Demon and it’s tyrant intentions is nothing compared to the betrayal’s of Angels. I learnt how to treat a woman, but from what the tricks told me about cheating husbands and their behavior. Militant soldier, the sun may rise in east where the Beast is, but set in the west where the angels are, we are the light of the world, mystical enhanced, the world’s Bablylon can’t test, we’re free again. Blessed are the ones who develop themselves into God’s. Cause it serves reality. Brethren, Anastasia my muse, we’re free again. Speak of The Devil, he shall appear. I’ve met a higher power here in life, before death and provided everything for my desires to be at ease, yet personal freedom still expands, along with my mind and felt no more pain. To my soul to take, immortality now, I’ve surpassed earthly glory.
To poetry,
There is all kinds of women out there, women in the physical form, it’s only their personality is there difference is & where I value, soft spoken voices, touches over poetry curves, breathes & gasps, eyes like stars I gaze upon, addiction to romance, lets us talk in deep discussion, if not, let me glare deep in the eyes that you own, experience life together, let me experience you, love is a deep concern of mine. But such concerns I cannot commit to pen & paper that produces poetry. Love, bleeding into one soul as neo-enlightenment.
Though we both came from the same place, perhaps it’s our desires & reality in mismatching that got us changing places, who’s to say I’m right or wrong, through hard times got my heart turn hard & my anxiety got my character stupor. Real friends make effort to be apart & make us feel good. It’s been a while since a flashed a smile. I hope it won’t stay until the end of time. I am able to let go, another poem out, it’s less than what I’m about, there is more, but the only thing I’ve done good is writing poetry. Now I’m peeked behind the curtain & willing be selling my soul. Now I’m in forever.
https://www.amazon.com.au/Inherent-Sin-Darcy-Prince-ebook/dp/B07FR5FW42/ref=sr11?ie=UTF8&qid=1536924150&sr=8-1&keywords=darcy+prince
The collective is here to justify the individual, I don’t bother to resist,
too swept up in my own world, it’s something beautiful and something
free. When self-validation creeps in, all ego is lost, a wanting attention
is more and it’s a waste of time. Snatching hearts and marking marks.
Right now I have my mind made up. The wisdom belongs to me. To each
breathe in each new moment, I part from my own past, while it teaches
me, I drop into the present and I angst never over the future. My own
life undeniable, because I have to live it, when it comes to others, I’m
free. Secret is charming and I am to myself.
Rare people are exquisite, it’s too bad they’re ignored and
pushed to the side. Perhaps it’s a reality they present or they’re
natural ability to alter one’s life for holiness of mysticism,
leaving meaning and dreams to be lived in reality. From strong
winds, the flowers pulled up and turned into butterflies. It all
sounds sweeter than honey. For that, they can all provide the
opposite. The capacity to live. They hold the capacity to do evil.
Perhaps they’re made to be alone, in either isolation or in crowds,
though it’s sinful to ignore them.
https://www.amazon.com.au/Her-Darcy-Prince-ebook/dp/B07GBCMWHS/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1534764910&sr=8-1&keywords=darcy+prince
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