LORD,
I seek to remedy my affairs by proper work;
Yet the stringent seek to proscribe suffering for my productivity.
I build a house on a firm foundation;
While the dishonorable seek to steal my own wood and stone.
How long does the wicked dance in the gardens of our future?
I seek to wield an anvil that starves the worthless.
What does it take to start the furnace with a piece of quaking hatred?
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