Micah

Woe is me! For I have become like the gatherings of summer, like the gleanings of the grape harvest, [when] there is no cluster of grapes to eat [or] early ripened fruit [that] my soul desires.

The faithful [person] has perished from the land, and there is none who is upright among humankind. All of them lie in wait; each hunts his brother [with] a net.