Shadows in the dreams of the night, I can’t tell who they are, but they know me. What do they want set in their cameo frames, turning toward me, the hairs around my neck risen. I’m cold but don’t sweat, dreams are confusing. The mind is more twisted in nocturnal state. Are they wastes of distress pronounced, or just shadows in my dreams, I ask is there no truth in anything are we just black and white.
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