The State Of I (Incomplete) Poem by H.J. Shreeve

There are parts of me of which I am repulsed.
Shadows that linger, at full sun, whispers of gods false.
This body of mine, a prison,
a chamber of sharp wire,
enclosed I am, reaching for light,
I am burnt from its fire.
I Search the walls in this vast space,
I await feeding time, though I've lost all taste,
Idunna's apples are always ripened,
though as I bite them they do expire,
one must ask why I eat at all?
for the days are lonely, this longing my downfall.
It would be best if I let myself go,
but no man knows what lies beyond those shadows.