Isaiah 22:2

Nothing remains but to crouch among the captives Or fall among those killed. In spite of all this, His anger does not turn back And His hand is still stretched out.

Is this your exultant city, Whose origin is from days of old, Whose feet used to lead her to sojourn in distant places?

For the land of my people in which thorns and briars shall come up, Indeed, against all the joyful houses and the exultant city.

Because the palace has been abandoned, the populated city forsaken. Hill and watchtower have become caves forever, A joy for wild donkeys, a pasture for flocks,

How lonely sits the city That was great with people! She has become like a widow Who was once great among the nations! She who was a princess among the provinces Has become a forced laborer!

“Those who are near and those who are far from you will mock you, you of unclean name, full of turmoil.

This is the exultant city Which inhabits securely, Who says in her heart, “I am, and there is no one besides me.” How she has become an object of horror, A resting place for beasts! Everyone who passes by her will hiss And wave his hand in contempt.