He spoke about disaster:
“This town’s fate’s sealed today;
And what was built is on the backs
—Stacked high and pressing down—
Of those you have abused. So
Turn yourselves o’er to the forces
Surrounding, eyeing you
And thereby you’ll survive.”

But scoffing rough, they asked for
Retraction: “You must pay
For every harmful word, you hack
—You shameless, lying clown—
Spoken here and now. Now go;
We wash our hands without remorse.
Disheart’ning are you to
Those fighting for our lives.”

They took him from the city
Of those who break the bread;
They had nothing like pity,
They soldiered on ahead

Towards the empty cistern,
The pit with naught but mud:
They tossed him down; he fell in,
His forehead smeared with blood.

But—sudden came Nobody;
He spoke unto the King:
“O Lord, the bread has run out,
Your people languishing.

You cannot let him perish
The muddied man, I mean;
Remove him, save him, drag him
Up from the depths unseen.”

And—sudden came the rescue
—Ascension to the light—
Yet for that breadless city
The fate was first the night.