¶ 1 My soul is weary of my life; I will leave my complaint upon myself; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul.
3 Is it good unto thee that thou shouldest oppress, that thou shouldest despise the work of thine hands, and shine upon the counsel of the wicked?
9 Remember, I beseech thee, that thou hast made me as the clay; and wilt thou bring me into dust again?
15 If I be wicked, woe unto me; and if I be righteous, yet will I not lift up my head. I am full of confusion; therefore see thou mine affliction;
16 For it increaseth. Thou huntest me as a fierce lion: and again thou shewest thyself marvellous upon me.
17 Thou renewest thy witnesses against me, and increasest thine indignation upon me; changes and war are against me.
18 Wherefore then hast thou brought me forth out of the womb? Oh that I had given up the ghost, and no eye had seen me!
19 I should have been as though I had not been; I should have been carried from the womb to the grave.
22 A land of darkness, as darkness itself; and of the shadow of death, without any order, and where the light is as darkness.