Psalm 11—The day has fallen dark around me, and the darkness is full of arrows.Lord, what refuge do I have but you? When my days each become small jokes Like the kind a razor makes, When the whole house sleeps Except for my night fears, When the old, long longings Tremble in my trembling hands, Bring me home.
"Violence is not what you made the world for;
It is just what happens here." This line is devastating in its plain language assessment.
See, that is the beauty of serial publishing. Good catch! I'll correct in the post and in the manuscript draft.