Knot

It slides around the sleeping mind, pooling into thought
Or does it slither within the skull,
And then succumbs to rot?
Is it to be soulful?
Is it to be sought?
Or are some that seem to slink, only satisfied as knots?

A knot kept taut within the conscience
Slowly ticks a tack of error
For that we tremble and that we teeter
On the tiny brink of terror
It can’t be untied
It can’t be tighter
The tearing truth is a torrid fighter

For we know this worrisome knot, we know it sadly well
Our wary woes consume
And we are scared as hell
For within us we weakly wither, weather, and dwell
Upon this one thought - a wicked knot - unwelcomed, and withheld

But the falsity is within
our forbidden memory
Frequent and futile are our flighty attempts to flee
For some things are forever ever there
Never to forget, forever to flair
We unfortunately know it is the knot that is fair
For it unfavorably is fearsome truth
And our foolish hidings are the shameful proof

Proof of what the human mind hurriedly ignores
Hazy hurt and horrors we hatefully carefully horde
However never we hastily hear
Despite hollow hearts we know it is near
For here is the hellish horrible truth
We are that knowledge, we are the proof