In the sleep a void, the mystery a flight. I a vacuum, a channel to space, tuned for evacuation to white light. Below gold sphere transmigration A.U.M breath in and out create another green world and a new atmosphere to taste, fresh upon a new tongue and a new life. You will evolve in time.
By Mason Cult Poet
Mason Cult Poet was born in Westmorland in the Lake District in a farming engineering community. On one side of the family many portions of nobility mainly the Stuarts. Mason Cult did as the herd does and went through the education process. attended drama school and ran small businesses. The stigma of mental health issues blighted him as it does with all creative people, was diagnosed in 2011 with a form of Asperger’s Syndrome which can impair executive function however it has given him a higher sense to see what others do not and from this ability he concludes the world is controlled by esoteric forces and that other interventions operate steering the world we know ro a new beginning.. What we witness we are forced to challenge and the work of Mason Cult assists this
Hamlet: Act 3, Scene 1, ‘ To die, to sleep- perchance to dream- ay, there’s the rub, for in that sleep of death what dreams may come’.
Keep up the good work, Mason.