The way she drags her old feet in the journey,
A depiction of the torture by the rupture of nature,
And the titanic struggle with the Dragon.
The Worms also have devoured her,
So she struggles and stinks as she journeyed.
Her hears are filled with the mixture
Of homilies and hoohas.
The tinnitus has caught her,
No more messages from her Beloved.
The Clergies visit her tent,
Never to pray but to prostitute;
Her perverts banished her from the Comforter.
The World is sick, crying for help.
Until she sees the Balm of Gilead,
She sinks on her sick bed.
Oh Lord come,
And heal our dying World.
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