I only believe in the wind, about in the cold night air, how it passes and flutes and whistles through a million gaps and slithers of light, like pages in a book turning changing the story with every new word, wind will have more than enough to do.
As autumn arrives dying leaves brittle and noisy wind winding through twisty trees,  noisy dry dying leaves down to the ground they go mixed now on the forest floor with other wind  shot seed for unknown feet to bristle through,  heel high,  a soothing crunch of serenity in the solace and inevitability a changing season brings .

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
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