Poetic? Just us

I haven't written a sonnet for awhile, but on impromptu inspiration, I came up with this one.

The Burgeoning Immense

Temptation rises quick in many guis-
es;  gluttony is easy to attain
as just desserts or just the lust of eyes
for food we shall not need.  Because the pain
of stark denial holds no vividness
that winsomeness or youth's nubility
innately radiate, we swift transgress
when sudden we shall mark tranquility
of features which are perfectly arranged
to stimulate the burgeoning immense
which overrides our reason; thus, estranged
from intellect's awareness of expense
we headlessly pursue destruction's sights
caressing smooth the stalk of strife's delights.