Not a voice do they have now they are the chaff upon the floor, fallen through gaps residing in sub-terrain on dark streets and hollowed out corners where haggard shapes cast a ragged shadow.
A withered hand in a gap as always clawing back with an empty hand to a hungry drawn stomach, starving minds of hope in a common trench covered in soil, a problem going unknown out of sight
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