My Father, find your betrayed children And hear their silent suffering! They wander the earth with bleeding hearts. Their adulterers cast them aside like rubbish And they whore after what's not theirs. The wives of their youth walk aimlessly in lonely deserts, And rest in weary caves, Their hearts drip blood like breadcrumbs. Craftily the enemy follows the red trail To find their hiding places. He comforts them with his lies, Telling them it's their fault. “It's because you’re not enough.” He says to them. “You're not attractive, You're not a good wife and you're obnoxiously prudish. Oh, and by the way, you do have to stay, For even the Lord wants you to suffer." The women listen, and retreat into despair, Because these lies are too loud And Your whisper of truth too quiet. Their hearts become hardened towards You. The walls around them built so high, No one can come in or out. Betrayal separates them from You As well as their husbands. My Helper and my Healer, What prevents You from helping them? Who will expel their adulterers? Who will bind up their broken hearts And heal all their wounds?
