The Tying Knots

Some things in life cannot be untied. *Thank you to C3 Lady, Lyre and Rac7hel. They gave me the idea, and I wrote them out.

I will walk until I fall,
and grasp the ropes
flourishing with knots
strung like discarded carnival banners
in dark, narrow halls.

Knots, twisted by turning hands,
spin endlessly in stairwells
against painted clock faces
above all those bidding
their faint farewells
to poor laid plans.

A poor maiden stands

waving me farther down corridors 
scissors in hand
ready to cut my ticket 
she purchased for my journey
around an uncertain thicket
of more ropes tied in a hurry.

The End

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