Killer of the flow

The pain within is a fiber
A thread at the center of the collection
One design that won't find its way out
It's own wish is nothing but to be seen and acknowledged.

This is the very thing that ceases the flow and its existence
Never anything to be guarded on its own place
One can only decide to feel hatred and pain
Self loathing at the weakness pertained by its taken form
It has not physical shape, only there with a song that is to sing
Find its own lost form in a lasso whipping

Taken at a whim, this is that on its own

A loss...Killer of the flow.