A glance of another gives rise to feelings that are forbidden. The fight begins.

Why does the forbidden look so fitting?
To even think of a taste is sinning.
Like Eve, I saw the apple dangling.
It will look as it wants you to see it.
Or is it just the other way around?
Could it be in my imagination?
Eyes that meet mine for an eternal glance,
Hands that brush against me at any chance;
A favorable tone and loving stance?
Am I imagining all that I see?
Is it myself that wants to betray me?
Won’t those eyes be full of sleep in the morn?
Won’t those hands become just as old and worn?
A tone and a stance that will turn forlorn?
Surely, I should stay in the arms of love.
Never to think of the apple above.