.

Desperate Sorrow

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When it is you
     who make your plants to grow,
When it is you
     who make your seed to flourish,
When it is upon your hands
     you alone depend,
The harvest of your labor
     will be as ruins,
Leaving you hungry
    and prostrate before
         the feet of desperate sorrow.
 

Isaiah 17:11

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by J Alan R
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