I am counted among those who go down to the pit; I am like one without strength.
I am set apart with the dead, like the slain who lie in the grave, whom you remember no more, who are cut off from your care.
You have put me in the lowest pit, in the darkest depths.
Your wrath lies heavily on me; you have overwhelmed me with all your waves.
You have taken from me my closest friends and have made me repulsive to them. I am confined and cannot escape;
my eyes are dim with grief. I call to you, LORD, every day; I spread out my hands to you.
Do you show your wonders to the dead? Do their spirits rise up and praise you?
Is your love declared in the grave, your faithfulness in Destruction ?
Are your wonders known in the place of darkness, or your righteous deeds in the land of oblivion?
But I cry to you for help, LORD; in the morning my prayer comes before you.
Why, LORD, do you reject me and hide your face from me?