7 Let them run off like the waters of a flood,
and though they aim their arrows, let them fly without their heads.
8 Let them melt like a snail that oozes along;
may they be like a stillborn that never catches its first breath, never sees the sun.
9 Before your cook pots know the furious flame of a fire of thorns—
whether green or burning—He will blow the wicked away.