Isaiah 21:3-5

The Voice

³ My stomach sinks. My gut churns with pain.
    As a woman in labor wrenches and writhes, I can hardly bear the news.
I cannot hear because I’m bent over with agony.
    I cannot see because I’m deep in the fog of depression.
⁴ My heart skips a beat; my mind is buzzing, terribly unsettled.
    Horror and trembling rattle the serenity of the evening I longed for.
⁵ Meanwhile, the ones who are in charge
    are spreading out a feast, eating and drinking just like normal.
I want to say to them:
    “Get up, officers.
    Oil your shields, and be prepared!”