The whithered fruit in the vineyard field,
Stops producing its quantities yield.
The fate of the vines now sadly sealed.
Vines of productivity all over keeled.
The harvister comes, might to wield.
Single vine of truth wrath to shield.
The workers sadly now all kneeled.
Left asunder and insecurity reeled.
The truth vine looks to be healed.
Only by love is truth revealed.
Rejuvenate fruit fate align zealed.
