The drops of honey drips into the water to swirl thickly

The sweet bland taste hints at ambrosia

A fragment of immortality

The scent of godhood wafts over 

But it passes over with giving you a second glance

It leaves you to your mortality by yourself

You wish to drink the dear ambrosia to touch your lips

Said ambrosia will never touch your tongue though

For you are a mortal, and ambrosia is for the gods