I’m faithless, life made me that way, in shear numbers the odds were stacked one mind, pushing a million more back in a false endeavour as evolution was sliding me away. An individual’s prayer in the masses like drowning in the ocean. Who has the right to ask in this crucible of despair, like young animals if we are treated right we might be kind, but we fight poverty iniquity discrimination in demarcation zones of modern life. Where even shouting louder never gets you heard so we look to the sky on a clear evening that can be a prayer. If only I could reach the stars that tempt the mind to hope for better till the silver ships arrive and a blond saviour and partner shining Adam and his eve for we will start again .

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

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The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive