Forbidden Fruit

Crawling through your night phase,
I wander through this opaque maze,
Hoping to lift the heavy haze,
Over the eyes, of discreet lies,
Covered by these darkened days.

Becoming lackadaisical,
With all the metaphysical.
Trying to claim the boundaries,
Of something that's invisible.

Never given meaning,
Behind the bottom feeding,
Or excessive intervening.
Nevertheless, a constant mess,
Underlined by crops worth gleaning.
Just as much as any such,
Could find so demeaning.

Keeping the door forever closed,
Hiding all forbidden fruit.
Right under the nose,
Of everything I call truth.
A thorn on the rose,
Of my perpetual youth.
Am I the sloth,
Or the gaining sleuth?