Plea for Relief from Bitter Foes

IN my distress I cried to the LORD,

And He heard me.

Deliver my soul , O LORD , from lying lips

And from a deceitful tongue.

What shall be given to you.

Or what shall be done to you,

You false tongue?

Sharp arrows of the warrior,

With coals of the broom tree!

Woe is me, that I sojourn in Meshech,

That I dwell among the tents of Kedar!

My soul has dwelt too long 

With one who hates peace.

I am for peace;

But when I speak , they are for war.