Idiocy In Denial of Justified Indecision

I tie knots with strings of indecision,
only to vacate the proximity from which
streams arrive floundering in mercies boots,
someday I will reach the end of the road,
a non-miracle in bipartisan ink wells,
a non-testament to how evolution carries weighted cough,
pluck the notes of my idiocy,
the deeply justified are swallowing disturbed,
and I for one am in denial of the solutions blank stare.