Psalm 64

1 Listen and help, O God. I'm reduced to a whine And a whimper, obsessed with feelings of doomsday.
2 Don't let them find me - the conspirators out to get me,
3 Using their tongues as weapons, flinging poison words, poison-tipped arrow-words.
4 They shoot from ambush, shoot without warning, not caring who they hit.
5 They keep fit doing calisthenics of evil purpose, They keep lists of the traps they've secretly set. They say to each other, "No one can catch us,
6 no one can detect our perfect crime." The Detective detects the mystery in the dark of the cellar heart.
7 The God of the Arrow shoots! They double up in pain,
8 Fall flat on their faces in full view of the grinning crowd.
9 Everyone sees it. God's work is the talk of the town.
10 Be glad, good people! Fly to God! Good-hearted people, make praise your habit.