Baited

I am a sinner but my sin I am not,
yet of temptation, my aversion be rare.
In guilt and shame, my person's distraught
and falleth I into the fowler's snare.
To take what ought as object of want
is a greater sin than avarice, greed or lust
and he who's poke and lure and taunt
will turnth man from formthed to dust.
My strength, I'll forge perfection by hand
and mine be the victory o'er acts impure,
but now my pillars have turned to sand
for I was a trout that took the lure.

Yet though humility and virtue I lack
plucked from the hook, His hand threw me back.