My strength is almost gone. I won't live much longer. A grave is waiting for me.
People who make fun of me are all around me. I'm forced to watch as they attack me with their words.
"God, please pay the price to have me set free. Who else would put up money for me?
You have closed the minds of those who are trying to comfort me. They don't understand that I haven't done anything wrong. So don't let them win the argument.
Suppose a man tells lies about his friends to get a reward. Then his own children will suffer for it.
"God has made everyone laugh at me. People spit in my face.
My eyes have grown weak because I'm so sad. My body is so thin it hardly casts a shadow.
Those who claim to be honest are shocked when they see me. Those who think they haven't sinned are stirred up against me. They think I'm ungodly.
But godly people will keep doing what is right. Those who have clean hands will grow stronger.
"Come on, all of you! Try again! I can't find a wise person among you.
My life is almost over. My plans are destroyed. And so are the longings of my heart.
People like you turn night into day. Even though it's dark you say, 'Light is nearby.'
Suppose the only home I can hope for is a grave. And suppose I make my bed in the darkness of death.
Suppose I say to the grave, 'You are like a father to me.' And suppose I say to its worms, 'You are like a mother or sister to me.'
Then what hope do I have? Who can give me any hope?
Will hope go down to the gates of death with me? Will we go down together into the dust of the grave?"