Building Bridges

Building bridges where there are non I’ll try hoping for a miracle do they exist is it under the fountain of spirits visiting the hosts in the many lifestreams prepare properly and you will find out I’m sure for indeed we are without hope if we do not believe and we will just pass by without the vision

 

Run

Run the air is changing again, run for your very life. My nostrils are full as it suddenly passed my sensory core. I detected that the air had changed I was suddenly running on three cylinders caught in exhaustion, there was no choice it bore down upon my senses but nobody talks of this to most it’s just another day and no one believes me how sad.

 

Phantom Lodges

Oh, days of the Phantom Lodges your world has changed and you wondered why? those secret buildings in towns cities and villages, the gatherings, the control so secret.  The heavy minds of control never so obvious never truly seen these are the days of The Phantom Lodges they call it a little dispensation of powers and yes you may never know just look for the emanating Auras as you walk past the non-descript building.

 

The Craft & The Nobody

The Craft and the nobody, for fifty years the mute villager was misunderstood the fool to all, drifted in and out of every day everyone shouted at him and all he did was return what seemed to be a vacant smile. Confined seemingly to the scrapyard. He plainly existed but there was indeed a reason. One darkened evening when stars were down and dark drowned this night the mute awoke for the last night of his life,a shepherd was watching lent upon the wooden five-bar gate central to the field. The mute sat up and the silver aura drew his head up, suddenly the mute saw a craft he was able to shout at it to those that never knew in fifty years this is what he was waiting for the miracle after all was the craft so long,  so long, but it came and he was mute no more.

I Heard

I heard a whisper, a cold whisper, about a murder the killing of many, parts of a plot that inevitably involved a chain, a plan. The plan does it affect me, oh no there are many others. When you’ve gone you won’t be seeing the sky or hearing running water. You will be just part of the elements.

I Pray

I pray so much now will I get an answer this is worrying.  I ask what has happened to this world and what have humans done. Will evil never stop and curses never be lifted I’m doing penance for all my sins. I hope that God will forgive me, please don’t make my children suffer for my misdeeds. Purity and solitude I seek but not to be confined that window of light and hope is needed i pray to be that now as like many I am truly scared.

Time

It isn’t time a little voice told me, give it another day. I heard it from somewhere, I listened the sky opened and I was taken away and I came out elsewhere but not on the earth I knew. A voice came to me and whispered you are modified you are now upon Mars my son you will soon have company look yonder for the sky craft it will come you are now ex of the earth forever.

 

 

 

 

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