Mason Cult a being of superior intuition has noticed the ever increasing levels of sex crimes in the media every hour. Every waking moment of each and every day, the stakes were thus that under Mason’s mind microscope these sex crimes were coming up as something else, indeed the plot was truly thickening it occurred to Mr Cult that these sex crimes were the failed mating attempt of clumsy faulty aliens, the progeny before and before, that this was mistake, after mistake. Not unveiled as yet, this was truly evil at work and is every day now to be seen but nothing declared or revealed, yet as this would compromise national and international security.
Tag: xmas
The Reapers Gone.
The reapers gone for his tea nothing left to get in his way, his blade cools his cloak black it is upon the hanger, the table is set. Fires burn logs crackle, but who hears the sound, if indeed there was. Know one at all. For he comes from the kingdom of nowhere and is responsible to know one.
Journey To The Sea
Journey to the sea restless inland upland hills and mountainside, the people now spillover the crowded land, all churches are forts, as ports, are locked down planes, are empty millions surround high meshes, sound bounds and rebounds from darkened town buildings sky black and birds fall, animals wail, no masters have they. As abandoned and wild in the wildest are they. Free to ravage scrap and limbs.
Faintly drawing and tuning a few isolated humans are the sound of a wind horn trembling in some distance, where this leads in compass like magnetic draw sneaking on the meek and lowly, creep past steaming hordes of foul broken democracy.
Where politics amount to nothing in confusing melee of the madness estate, in old Britain land where the union jack no longer lifts her time tired subjects but yet sound beacon drowns the ears and floods the brains of the chosen, for only they will hear as they are drawn to a crooked coast near oxbow waters of choppy seas restless gravitational and disturbed.
Mother moon squeezing cheeks and creating pressure appears to divide and spread apart this angry hiss of now parting sea, so strong is the parting gap that in it’s width ground is dry for meek incumbents to see, as they are drawn to what is to become a world enclosed beneath with former world reminded.
Now gone to a turbulent other land beneath and beyond all other and former known in acceptance of new Neptune. His staff now receding beneath irritated wild waves the poor and lowly now set upon an evolving journey as twenty first century Britain in notional sense of earth time, is left to its continual destructive finale, till her fires are drawn and out inland she remains as trees and fauna now cover without trace the blighted land devoid of the worst of human earth model only faint echoes of church bells added to the sky can be heard by know-one.
Upon Stoic Hills
Upon stoic hills risen to point on platitude, distinct for I have seen on this day a path in winding for me, with a gold cross, set forth for others who may follow to cleanse imperfection and the despair of suffering, like a magnet drawn in gravity scale I go.
Six Deep One Sin & I Put a Lid On
Six deep, one sin a minute, then out we go not conscious of any imminence optimism is the best ghost story, in your worst dream saving lives in intermittent waking under the pull of benevolent moon and in the morning god given sun so sustained are we.
I Put A lid On…
I put a lid on a fire and look for a sign it is lit there is smoke there are shapes in plumes I put another lid on I Stoke the fire it rages the shape is angry and determined but I am tired and can’t keep up with fire that consumes and delivers smoke equal measure to keep up with a fire in my heart that is trying to keep up with life running away