The knot,
Perplexed at its simple complex elegance,
tying two loose ends,
The weaves and tensions that holds together,
unifying bonds yet as far as they can be.

A knot is all around, those who knot and those who not.
I was not.
I didn't know how to knot.

Strings all around tangle but rarely knot,
the simple geometry without angles nor shape,
the beauty when a knot takes place,
a consistent loop they make
nothing spectacular for a circus but interest took pace.

trial and error, the two ends are brought closer and closer,
they pass and meet, the excitement and anticipation of the feat,
to what will the knot take place; fascinating,
dream or visualise but know not the form this knot takes.

The strings tangle and tangle,
the string beginning to take the form of a loop,
success is always a thought and a want,
but sometimes is what we seldom get
sliding past and they untangle with such pace as to realise,
the strings flew part.

This interest this passion for a knot,
as a fire burns its brightest the more fuel it use;
if the fuel is not enough, this fire quickly tears away at its sustenance,
leaving only a hollow hulk,empty.
An ember that is burnt and unkindled.