What is left for me here? Will the birds continue to sing? Will the sun still shine? Will the water flow? Will the wind blow? Will the rain fall?

What shall I make of this despair? I have given my all to you. Oh you barren land. Why do you deceive me? I shall not forgive you. For what is left in me to sweat out? Blood? My hoe is broken. My breathe is gone. My mouth is dry. Surely my hope shall die.

What shall I make of this weariness? I heard that there is no rest for the wicked. What shall I make of this? Am I wicked? Was I wicked to thee? Then yes I deserve this punishment. I deserve this pain. Let judgment befall upon me. Let heaven’s vengeance send me to the grave. Let sorrow befall my people. For I have wronged thee.

What shall I make of this your deceit? Vengeance is the Lord’s. Let all who seek you thirst. Let all who plant vines in you reap sour grapes. Barren land you shall always be, yet to you I will always return. I am not a dissident, I just love you.