Amen to Donne

I had a little too much caffeine today (one day I'll quit, I swear) and I'm having trouble sleeping. I hate staying up late. It's a sin, totally. :) Well, for me anyway. I was feeling a little creative and decided to write a poem. I'm pretty impressed with it, actually; its form is perhaps original. I haven't seen this construction before. It's probably been done before, but I haven't seen it. So there. :) I'll just tell you. It's 8 syllables in one line, and the next line has 2 syllables. The second syllable in every 2 lines rhymes with the 6th syllable of the previous line. How about that, right?
Its title: Amen to Donne. I'll explain after you read this fun little ditty (and don't freak out. I'm a poet and therefore get to exaggerate and fictionalize. One should never assum the speaker of the poem and its author are one in the same.) With no further adieu:

Amen to Donne
It is woven within my being,
This sin.
A parasite, it seems, of sun
And dreams.
It is to me as plant to soil.
I can’t
Expunge my soul, O God, forgive
My fraud
Forgive my fraud! And yet, hold off
(Regret
Is well but cannot stay my hand, a week,
A day)
Until the hour Thou wilt banish
My guilt
By taking this my fav’rite sin—
My grave—
And accomplices; thought, desire
I’ve fought
With tireless hope which avails me not.
Assails
Still, this sin, O God! For what?So, God,
My Father, take away this plague!
I say,
Unweave my fibers, change my heart!
Derange
My days. O’erthrow and bend, for Thou
Dost mend
As yet, but batter my heart! For I
Will fly
Only as Thou restraineth my wings.
4.29.09

What do you think? Don't think about it as something written by Stephanie, but what do you think of it as a literary work? I've called it "Amen to Donne" because I've quote one of my favorite poems ever ever, which is by John Donne, who was a preacher I think, and never did anything really bad, and yet he wrote this amazing sonnet:
Batter my heart, three-personed God, for You
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend.
That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurped town to another due,
Labor to admit You, but Oh! to no end.
Reason, Your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love You and would be loved fain,
But am betrothed to Your enemy;
Divorce me, untie or break that knot again;
Take me to You, imprison me, for I,
Except You enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except You ravish me.

That is a thing of beauty, right there. WELL. Tell me how you think of my poem!