I Have

Father, deliver me to the swollen path faith's calling, not the lathe, not the breaker point, nor salve, that heals profusely, so the scar can bathe its entity - like pride, in terms of have! I have - a nothing, but thy love, that God would halve, and then turn righteous, thee & I, 'til wholeness bade - I have thy courage, if my heart not wax, too openly, and leave no guessing's waft. I have thy knowing hardship, thy enslave. I have thy postmark, like a name would seal a grave, and that beneath, not entering, forgotten, and deceased. I have thy place of halt - thy birthright, thy retreat, I have, by God's discern, a plan against defeat! I have - envision to complete thy halving - not repeat, a oneness - that is lone in its own meet.