Micah 7

¹ Woe to me! For I am like the gatherings of summer fruit, like the gleanings of the vintage. There is no cluster to eat; my soul craves the early fig.

² The godly one has perished from the earth, and the upright one is not among mankind. All of them lie in wait for blood; each man hunts his brother with a net.

³ Both palms are on evil, to do it well. The ruler is asking for a bribe, also the judge. And the great man speaks the lust of his soul; he acts, and they weave it together.