LORD,
I put silver in the crucible;
And I placed gold in the furnace.
Yet the same impurities extend into the product.
What does it take to wet the future with a bow of acacia?
So much is done in your Name, yet little of it is good.
What is the purpose of the wastrel generations that come and go?
What do we liken the day to when it is filled with pain with listless starvation?
I study the precepts of Your Choice yet I am filled with anguish from a rancid tormenting judge.
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