I thought grief was a quiet place, now it shouts and sings as spirits soar in acension to be released for eternity, and joy the tears you see are falling to touch your living self, as the clouds shape the dead for you to see. Once more before the sky clears for another day, as you
continue your walk on misty dew of morning grasses.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Author: 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
View all posts by Mason Cult Poet
