The arrogance of control was living on, above the ground, the poverty was draining the relatives still looking for a lifebelt with a crock of gold in the middle.
Time was running out so was patience, the survivors took the graveyard rubbing hardened lichen from weather worn wobbly stones and there it stood, as I speaking aloud.
It is here, all you are seeking, I am the mystery relative, dead but a saviour nonetheless you will find the box of an unknown uncle the contents inside the brazen husk will unlock all you requirements forever, it is called hell.
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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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