The earth is not beautiful anymore, every day it gets dropped it gets stained it feels the pain. The hearts of the good die by the hour with every shower that’s poured over us.
Too much, I can’t see. I wipe my eyes, I wipe your eyes. in the hope we can see the horizons without horrors and angry hate. Before its too late, before we die crash and burn in an unholy husk so lifeless when it needn’t be so.
Abandoned
Abandoned upon a wild river turning in whirlpools cast out on the flow faster more destructive mad vulnerable where will it end only natures law of end will tell the fastest escape to nothing that ever was washed up and wasted.
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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
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