Not Mine To Touch Poem by April Humason

A whisper soft, a tempting flame,
A hand that pulled and spoke my name.
Silken traps in softened speech,
What wasn't mine within her reach.

The air grew thick with painted charm,
A fragile net wrapped in her arm.
But I remembered heaven's eyes,
And truth that lives beyond disguise.

My heart beat fast, my spirit knew
The sacred line I must not move.
The cost of sin, the weight it brings,
Is heavier than golden things.

She held my coat, I left it there,
Ran from the snare, escaped the stare.
Better naked of what I wore,
Than stained with what I'd mourn forevermore.

She turned to lies, I turned to chains,
My body bound, my honor clean.
A prison wall, a silent prayer,
God was with me even there.

No throne, no touch, no stolen flame
Could steal the glory of His name.
For favor lives where hearts are pure,
And footprints clean are far more sure.

So I ran — not weak, but brave,
From what enslaves the soul it saves.
For love that's real is born of light,
Not hidden rooms and fading night.