What misery is mine!
I am like one who gathers summer
fruit
at the gleaning of the vineyard;
there is no cluster of grapes to eat,
none of the early figs I crave.
The godly have been swept from the
land;
not one upright man remains.
All men lie in wait to shed blood;
each hunts his brother with a net.
Both hands are skilled in doing evil;
the ruler demands gifts,
the judge accepts bribes,
the powerful dictate what they
desire –
they all conspire together.
The best of them is like a brier,
the most upright worse than a thorn
hedge.
The day of your watchman has come,
the day God visits you.
Now is the time of their confusion.
Micah 7: 1-4
