Honey

Stuck in the golden honey, I watch the pot lid close,

My silent darkened chamber, is practically my home. 

I grunt and moan just to stand, and stretch my shaken limbs,

But stuck are both my feet and legs, stuck together to no end. 

Sitting in this empty space, abandoned and left alone. 

Im trying to remember, what bad it is I've done. 

Was it that I wronged my father, by lying to his face?

Or did I hurt my mother, and break her misplaced grace?

Am I evil to my sisters, do I tortue them all day?

Or am I simply lacking, in trying to find my way?

Regardless of whate'er it was, I sit stuck in mud's kin, 

At least I think that this is mud, but maybe honey's sin!

Sweet to see and sweet to taste, but sickening to know,

The rock and roll of ocean's wake, distract me from my flow.

Is it sin that I am stuck in, or is the sin all in my head? 

Any daily dose of struggle, has far surpassed my bed. 

And while I lay for ages, melting in my sheets,

I can't stop thinking about honey, and so I eat the sweets.