For my soul is full of troubles, and my life draws near to Sheol.
Their soul abhors all manner of food, and they draw near to the gates of death.
He was despised, and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief. And as him from whom men hide their face he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
They mount up to the heavens, they go down again to the depths. Their soul melts away because of trouble.
In the day of my trouble I sought LORD. My hand was stretched out in the night, and slacked not. My soul refused to be comforted.
Yea, his soul draws near to the pit, and his life to the destroyers.
Hear the right, O LORD, attend to my cry. Give ear to my prayer, that goes not out of feigned lips.