I am faint and sore bruised: I have groaned by reason of the disquietness of my heart.
When I kept silence, my bones wasted away Through my groaning all the day long.
For my sighing cometh before I eat, And my groanings are poured out like water.
I go mourning without the sun: I stand up in the assembly, and cry for help.
We roar all like bears, and moan sore like doves: we look for justice, but there is none; for salvation, but it is far off from us.
My heart is troubled, and resteth not; Days of affliction are come upon me.