My perfect soul.

She the perfect match;

Im not heightening a white flag.

To blow in the breeze of our past, waring love.

invisible bombs dropping in our heads as thoughts,

Tankful actions to betray me…

May the land minds of our words,

Self destruct, may the tank lose course,

May the spiralling bombs around us, to cease.

The end of our war, belongs to future loves.

May they be more understanding, less prideful.

May the war cease, the flag to hover whilst blue jay’s pass nearby;

May the sun set whilst you’re smiling in-front of him.

May your smile stay bold and flawless,

You deserve to be content, i do know.

I love you…

To lose your massive pride,

Would mean to me, that I’m worth it too, am i?

@vincecarre My writing instagram

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The Rose that Knew no-limits.

As the rose tells me of the struggles it faced, yet succeeded.

The rain dripping, the wind challenging; as she blow’s in the wind,

Her root’s, her family of flowers. never cease development;

always amounting to success, strength. She appears the strongest,

Her root system, strengthens those from “beneath”. and the pedals one day, will reach the heavens.

As a well guided team, under the commandment of the “largest” head of the rose; within the traditional themed garden.

Bringing the less strong up, with nutrition. They’re bringing the ground with the team. Nothing gets left behind. As the ground lift’s,

It spirals with the rooting system attached. The angel’s shine the sun, to lift, the mass of soil.

The ground, shall never be without its beauty. They need one-another, the humbleness of the “grounding”

needs the beauty of the rose garden – they’re as a separate society, within the mass of society.

The Movie of the Beautiful Eyes

The diamond of the eye sparkles. The sparkles tell a story, of survival, hope…

i watch the show… only to discover, the projection of sparkles, are of a “red” light; transferring to white under-the-surface; The white lighting is of an illusion, what stands below are the fires of hell, lighting a false sense of hope.

As her mind manipulates the fiery lighting i’m in awe; of the angelic eyes i’m witnessing, within my mind, i know it can not continue, it mustn’t, but for now… i’m enjoying the film.

Love Her

She’s the sunlight, the moon and the star’s, too me she’s every kind of beautiful, perspective; complete, together.

She warms alike the sun, casts light in the darkness, and she’s my little star, bringing hope to myself. The mountains ive climbed to see the mix of completness. Was completely worth it, as i watch the scene, im stunned. How is she able?

Drugs.

The pipe warm’s; dream’s half dreamt, take ahold – What they’re shooting for became what they’ve cried about – a sea of empty dreams flow from out the eyes. In the pursuit of money, to fill their habit, but the habit had taken hostage of the mind. Their empty chest, containing their blackened heart pumps, but for how long?  For the white – they’ll lose sight – a snowy winter day, chasing eurphoria. They’ve chased a dream; their “dreams”, firing from a handgun, strikes their throat, and within the hand, holds a rocky ounce. Once proud wolves, taken by the pipe of regret – their heart was a rock, attached to their mind – Redirecting the strings, to play out, an unfulfilled life and an early grave. Their negative memories play within their parents mind’s.

Hovering Away from the Scene of a crime.

Ego soar’s incredibly, happiness circles the body, and i feel the warmth exiting… The shell becomes punctured to the other side… My old self dies off – my soul releases – i’m reborn – a cloudy-spirit ascends, i begin gravitating, over my body. I look in every direction, notice every detail. I look upon my old self – my body appears projecting a painting of everything i went through And the end is freedom, from the past destructiveness. It feels surreal, overwhelming my spirt, I begin to “hover” away from the scene of the crime….

Lovely Day for a Torture

My dear, do you know no mercy? I’ve climbed too high, to fall this low; I drift in the sky when you’re ‘round; Plummet to the fiery hell… My emotions fluctuate too quick… i served my heart on a golden plate; you ate it amongst the minions; the taste was unwanted…. the beat too obnoxious. the colour too bright, too warm; did you not notice, it was woven, within your traits, it held value for you.; your lips remain blood-soaked, hungering for more. Not needing i…. The heart shall be treasured…. the warm glow you neglect. Shall be another’s; yet i want you… Although you appear devilish at times, I look for the moments when you’re gravitating spirit, punctures my heart, and I fill whole; emptiness when you’ve drifted off. Anxiety before i connect; Happiness when i’ve connected. A cycle… Different identities – The heart can’t  keep up with the ever-changing environmental-costumes, how far will you go to capture and toy with what should be, cared for; the bad news is i can rip you to shreds if i felt differently; push me there?

Deep sadness

My emotions descend to a depth, i’ve never witnessed. They cast within, as poison within a pit of my stomach from my mind, causing me to vomit, the toxicity in the mind multiplies and causes me to lose my current perspective, I begin trying to take grasp of reality, it fluctuates – deep hatred-heavens; destroying my once healthy body.  They stick, my mind can’t go upwards – at some level i feel i deserve pain, which keeps me low. I hyperventilate, but can’t catch up to my normal rhythm. Everything i’ve grown to love, about myself, feels shattered. The mirrors within my thought chain, bounce my thoughts from within, and create a phantom-curtain, that picks up the previous identity, throwing it. My confidence dances away with strength and musical, beauty, playing to an old skipping record – as my thoughts try to find hope, negativity skips with positivitey, briefly – of a destructive classical masterpiece.

Sadness in the tunnel of the forgotten

Searching for meaning in the darkness. Everywhere i look, feels hopeless; I continue to search but there isn’t a light to be found, drips land from the eyes, but nobody hears the splash – lacking concern. Can i be found? Will they appear. Or is this an endless tunnel of once was. Old experiences, become fond memories. In doubt and continuing, my legs feel heavy, what i was once dreamt is of no-more – togetherness. Searching the piped-land. I’ve considered the white rock, if anything, it will bring me closer to God. Is that what i want? in this tunnel of once was?

The Devil that plays the Guitar of an Angel

Coasting the clear sea, I take-out my binoculars. as i’m looking thru – there’s a lovely song playing, with a guitar – Within the scope i notice a lovely woman playing this, the clock turns and eventually i get to the island, tie my boat, there’s a rope that’s been lit with a light – i think to myself strange, as i continue along the island, the music gets more aggressive; and lovely – The sky turns a dark colour, as begin to walk the island the music influences my body. I begin gravitating to the music, it’s vibrations so meaningful, pleasant, unique. My body shifts left-to-right, i begin to feel euphoric, the music is alike a drug. It separates my soul from my body – her character. My body peels from my bright soul – The music takes ahold more, i can feel the vibrations so deep within, my spirit quickly shoots towards the instrument, i feel the control take affect, my spirit shakes, I can feel my body die… I can feel the scratching of the strings on the piece. I begin seeing 360 degrees, just then my soul gets captured within the red guitar…