Undoer

A snarl, curled, twisted strand.
The knotted, tangled twine.
It binds me that  I cannot stand.
A means to loosen, sought to find.

It trips me that I cease to walk
It grips me at my place of peace.
Heart’s beat does slow to labored knock.
I beg you for unlaced release.

When freed from life’s confining mess
The mother’s arms do softly fold
A dreamless sleep in which we’re blessed.
Our lives now free of evil’s hold.