Midnight Poet Strikes Again - Baited by holiness

Bonds that hold me to a cause
Are painful, prickful, just because
they’re way too tight and pinched
This time,
Grooved inside a stricter rhyme

My fault is that the rod is yours:
Buttered bait and brambly lures.

This Grey eyed fish, who’s gripping tight,
Whose gills embody hallowed white,
Has stiffened.  

Stuck and held in stasis,
I’ve forgotten where the grace is.

Non communal to my depths,
I opened wide and failed the test.
So struggling more, without rest,
I ask forgiveness
Of myself

For having bit.
And taken
It.

Unhook before I become unhinged.
And my soul becomes infringed
Upon, 
And creativity is singed

And gone.