Rumour Mill Poem by pedro moshood

Just as ice clouds at its melting point
It condensed, appearing like a frozen
Whitish tuft, tinier than the hair thread
On a child dying from starving in Nazi camp,
Then bringing the observer closer to you
While pulling off the veil that covered
Your face like the deity preserved only in faith.
Your world that was once a mystery at large
From thereon spreads the network like
Light from halo, travelling faster
Every millisecond than you can ever think,
While you think it still hangs above,
Solid and expanding, then it falls down
Like rain, unravelling the life that was
Once a mystery and puzzleto everyone around.