Getting the Hang

Why will He sit back and watch me go wrong? Gamble on choices yet remain on the villainous path. Why will my thoughts of being perfect melt sour? When He has a plan He wishes I follow. I am left to flesh to argue, Left to self to embrace. He wants me in the right, yet turn blind to my flaws. He stands distances away and let me err, Gives an apportioned missile to my discretion, Leaves me in the mystery of the yet to be, While in time He promised my boat He will paddle. I am the apple of His eyes and never the less He chose to watch me fail, Classed me reprobate when He can force righteousness on my chest. Why do I have to make a mistake first to be learned? Whilst He in superiority can stamp me in appropriation. But then, He said life and death He has placed before me. The essence of common sense He has dignified to my appraisal. While He ushers me to life, He cast me an agent of self-will. In His image am I created, The weight of His perfection I am to carry. As He called Heaven to witness in His favor, The wheels to my destiny He placed in my hands to wield. Can't I event stand up to my wrongs and robe them right? Can't I prove to Him that His breath in me isn't a waste? I am faced to worth the life I will live as a proof of an existence, Therefore I will throw sentiments away and risk all in expedition.