the chase is wild.
ripped to shreds by foes fierce as lions,
dragged into the forest and left
unlooked for, unremembered.
ripped off my enemies—
If my hands are really that dirty,
leave me flat on my face in the dirt.
against my furious enemies.
the courtroom; it’s judgment time.
throw out the false charges against me.
I’m ready, confident in your verdict:
but publish your mandate for us.
You get us ready for life:
you probe for our soft spots,
you knock off our rough edges.
made right, kept right.
but his nerves are sandpapered raw.
11–13 Nobody gets by with anything.
Sword honed on his whetstone,
bow strung, arrow on the string,
each arrow a flaming missile.
He had sex with sin,
he’s pregnant with evil.
Oh, look! He’s having
the baby—a Lie-Baby!
digging, then concealing, his man-trap
down that lonely stretch of road?
Go back and look again—you’ll see him in it headfirst,
legs waving in the breeze.
I’m singing the fame of heaven-high God.
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