If I Am Not This Then Who

Betimes in the noiseless, scary night; Whenne the Moon and the Stars winkle not as bright'. Thy child, O My Lord! Recline beneath thy Firmaments Whenne the greed to surpass beseech Divine for armaments. Bless me- Almighty! A drop of thy might, I 'm blind, my Benefactor! A bit of thy divine sight. I'm esurient for edification and surreal humanity; O my deity, for thy modicum omniscience and eternity. Heed my Father, Regard! Thy henchman's dilapidated Please cosset haste , He's ruffled and mutilated Braving myself and praying as the sky is louring An indigent in your unearthly self; his entity He's scouring. He envisages too: My Lord! is thee thinkin' Am I true? Then tell Thy Majesty- if I am not THIS then who? (Am I)