Seated within the ashes
Reflecting on my afflictions
Righteously I scrape my flesh
This my divine tribulation

Without curse upon the lips
Though all of my bones burn with heat
As a harp turned to mourning
Into the voice of them that weep

This Is The Mourning Without The Sun
Cry Into Congregation
Without The Sun

Those that plow inequity
Forever the first to deceive
So quick to take what's given
Turn their backs when evils received

I have held my tongue
Never reproached you
Divine providence
I will not be moved

Absolved through these afflictions.