For my soul is full of trouble, and my life draweth nigh unto hell. I am counted as one of them that go down into the pit, and I have been even as a man that hath no strength, free among the dead, like unto them that are wounded, and lie in the grave, who are out of remembrance, and are cut away from thy hand. Thou hast laid me in the lowest pit, in a place of darkness, and in the deep. Thine indignation lieth hard upon me, and thou hast vexed me with all thy storms. Thou hast put away mine acquaintance far from me, and made me to be abhorred of them.
I am so fast in prison that I cannot get forth. My sight faileth for very trouble; Lord, I have called daily upon thee, I have stretched forth my hands unto thee. Dost thou show wonders among the dead? or shall the dead rise up again, and praise thee? Shall thy loving kindness be showed in the grave? or thy faithfulness in destruction? Shall thy wondrous works be known in the dark? and thy righteousness in the land where all things are forgotten?
Unto thee have I cried, O Lord, and early shall my prayer come before thee. Lord, why abhorrest thou my soul, and hidest thou thy face from me? I am in misery, and like unto him that is at the point to die; even from my youth up, thy terrors have I suffered with a troubled mind. Thy wrathful displeasure goeth over me, and the fear of thee hath undone me. They came round about me daily like water, and compassed me together on every side.
My lovers and friends hast thou put away from and hid mine acquaintance out of my sight.