Covet

The impulse that catches the globe

Runs straight to head above

Synthesizing some meaning prime.

Prime element of thine

Is categorized crime

Once it crosses a line.

The line which demarks

The safe boundaries

Under which nothing covets.

Covet is the seed of want

Which knows not its limit

Blinding the one who submits.

Submitted soul knows nil

What it's doing under the spell

That never satisfies but snowball.

Snowball every time, it sees

Something so bebelicious

That fails to unload from his eyes.

Eyes get fixed to the covet

And feet race to grab it

Not realizing where it escorts.

It escorts to pit so wide

Yet go unnoticed all the time

Because focus froze at source.

The source is so clear

But the background is a blur

Causing me to fall in the pit, afar.