God has turned me over to the ungodly and thrown me into the clutches of the wicked.
All was well with me, but he shattered me; he seized me by the neck and crushed me. He has made me his target;
his archers surround me. Without pity, he pierces my kidneys and spills my gall on the ground.
Again and again he bursts upon me; he rushes at me like a warrior.
“I have sewed sackcloth over my skin and buried my brow in the dust.
My face is red with weeping, dark shadows ring my eyes;