When The Vessel Has Died & Breathing Constant Creation.

When the vessel has died and gone, where is mind has it conquered over this organ or is mind somewhere else beyond seen boundary. Is it mixed or returned, solitary, vulnerable, shaped, by good or evil. Upon a mountain exposed is the skull of a philosopher, the howling wind blows through sockets like the thousands of sheep that died by his side. Did they join his flock or are they indeed just remnants of the dead, all that seems to be left is a lock of hair, for mortal man was indeed made of flesh and even to this day destination fucked will be upon us like a hurtling express train.

Breathing Constant Creation

Breathing constant creation, taking and giving, where panic and sense of mortality meet, who do we think we are, an element of something shared for a time with others, a teasing glimpse of enlightenment and fleeting entitlement. Like the bee taking nectar from flower heads, as changing to the power of honey sweet and temporarily consuming the cosmic breath of time.

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