The Mentalist

There are so many things happening,

Here, there, everywhere,

Many thoughts collide in his head.

There he sits, all alone, at one corner of the table,

Taking a draught in a full cup of tea.

He is so silent, so firm,

But the thoughts keep colliding.

He takes a quick look around.

He looks so confident,

As if he could read people's minds,

Could say if the old man behind him

Is a recent widower, the police officer over there

Is having an affair with his own daughter,

Or the couple at the opposite table

Is getting engaged soon.

But the storm comes all of a sudden,

The storm of thoughts wrecks the mind palace,

Helps to build it from scratch.

There are truths only he can see around,

Though he lives in lies.

Revenge is not good, but is necessary

At some point, where the life itself

Becomes a whirlpool of nightmares;

He seeks revenge.

He couldn't forget the past.

The past taught him so many things.

He knows that the past is a scar,

And the mind palace is a prison.

He lives being a convict, in his own memory.

He tries to memorize,

How the man killed the people he loved,

Killed his daughter, his wife, his.. life?

He stabbed again and again, until the breath stopped,

And then, feeling tired, drew a sadistic smile on the wall.

He still remembers, when he entered the room,

There was blood, frozen, everywhere.

And a mild yet relaxing fragrance,

Of sweat,

And strawberries and cream.

He filled the strawberry air in his lungs,

He felt so hopeless, yet so determined.

There's no life outside death,

And no death without life,

And as he slept with his dead daughter and wife

He felt so safe, as he survived.

Now the past becomes a blur in front of the eyes,

He drinks up the tea

As it makes him calm,

But the thoughts still collide.

He puts the mask on his face then,

Which always has a smile drawn on it.

Distant words echo in his ears,

Words from a poem he heard long ago

"Tyger, tyger, burning bright..."

And as he walks into the crowd,

His footsteps are so silent,

He looks so steady, so firm,

He is then just an ordinary man in the rush,

But, they say, and rumor has it

He reads between the lies.