Flow of the Mind

Steadiness is looking me out from the window

Disguised as a man cycling on the street

Continually 

 It’s the silent room that makes me scared

Of the mute violence 

Or is it the glance seems like a flame thrower

Capable of tiding you up with the harsh chains 

In a small black room where there is no flashlight to look for the black cat ? 

Who makes the decision of the guilty one? 

Mrs. Pretending having a conflict with Mr. Hypocrisy 

About the state of otherness 

When the thunder hits them like a strike of the truth 

To remind them that they lost their vision  in the dark pool of misconceptions 

Leading to a devastation 

Is it the lack of magnetic field or the communicative acts 

That creates the split ?

Far more than the lunar distance 

Struggling to approach 

Or is it just the obsession of mine steers me to jump into wrong conclusions?

Maybe that thought is as volatile as the smell of a malicious villain