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The Prophet’s Lament

I am miserable.
I have become like someone gathering summer fruit
        when it is time to glean the vineyard.

    There is no bunch of grapes to eat,
    none of the early figs I crave.
The faithful[a] have been carried off from the land.
    There is no one upright among mankind.
    They all lie in wait for blood.
    Each one hunts his brother with a net.

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Footnotes

  1. Micah 7:2 Or the merciful