This psalm is appointed for the Sixth Canonical Hour, and it falls within the Seventh Kathisma, which is read on Tuesday mornings. Here is my amplified version:
Give ear, O God, to my prayer,
Do not disregard my plea.
Wait on me and hear me.
My prayer was suppressed by despair,
For I was upset by the voice of the enemy,
By the unjust oppression of the evil powers:
They turned their abuse upon me,
And in their rage they denounced me.
My heart suffers in anxiety,
The terror of death has descended upon me.
I am overcome by desperation
As the darkness has flooded my soul.
I cried out:
Who will give me wings like Noah's dove
So I can fly, fly away
And find some green branch of life
Saved from the flood of death.
See how far away I've fled
Like a refugee,
I dwell in the desert.
Selah
I am waiting for my Saviour
From my weakness, from this tempest surge
Of darkness.
Drown these tempestuous wraiths in the Abyss,
O Lord,
Confuse their swarming tongues,
Their manufactured insinuations,
Their confounding speech,
Their rotting thought,
I have seen only injustice and strife in this City,
This present and dolorous Dis.
There is no ceasing of sin
And enslavement of the weak and poor
And the chaining of the misbegotten and forgotten,
Seething wickedness, vulgarity, depravity,
Lust and pride
Throb at the heart of Dis,
And usury, creditors and debtholders,
Loansharks and marketplace usurpers
And financial powers and principalities
Wall Street deceivers, demagogues and partisans
Have never, ever departed from the infernal City
That, dreadfully,
Is all here
Always now.
What have these wraiths done,
How have they possessed and afflicted,
Swarmed like flies
In this darksome, dissonant Burg?
We were friends, you and I.
If I had lost contact with the true enemy
I could have borne it,
If it were only my enemy that denounced me
I could have disregarded it.
But in this dolorous city on the sixth circle
Friendship is broken,
Friends who are equal,
Friends who are guides,
Friends who communed at the Table,
Friends who walked in one mind,
But that mind is no longer one,
Behold, the Craft of the Lord of the Flies:
Breaking ties that bind
Is the commercial business of demons.
Humanity is meant for only friendship
As it is the analogue of Triune Grace.
But its nature shrivels when friendship falls
And communion fades from sight.
Take away, Lord, these spirits of decay,
Send them not into the innocent swine,
But straight into the Abyss.
I cry to God in the desert
And the Ascended Lord has heard me.
Evening and morning and noon
I will cry out to Jesus
And He will hear my plea.
He will rescue my soul,
He will lead me to the peace of the still waters,
The green, cool valley,
Away, far far away, from the spirits of Dis
Closing in round about me.
God will hear and send them down,
God Who lives before all Time.
Selah
There will be no rescue for them
Because they do not want rescue
From the Only Rescuer they have,
The Only Saviour there is.
They have fallen into the Abyss of their own denial,
Because they reject His Communion
Of Friendship Divine.
Refusal of Love is only the Abyss
Of indefinite Dis.
The swarm is scattered by the Face of Love.
Cast your cares upon the Lord,
All of them and hold nothing back.
He will sustain you,
He will save you from drowning in the storm.
You, Ascended Lord,
Jesus my Rescuer,
Will exorcise the bloodthirsty,
And deceitful wraiths
Shall fade away,
Even here, even now,
None of them are here to stay,
Thank God.
As for me in this desert of peace,
I hope only in You.
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