But what shall I do? If I speak, my pain will not rest: and if I hold my peace, it will not depart from me.
So I also have had empty months, and have numbered to myself wearisome nights.
And I therefore began to strike thee with desolation for thy sins.
The Lord hath given me a learned tongue, that I should know how to uphold by word him that is weary. He wakeneth in the morning: in the morning he wakeneth my ear, that I may hear him as a master.
My soul is weary of my life: I will let go my speech against myself. I will speak in the bitterness of my soul.
I have done with hope. I shall now live no longer: spare me, for my days are nothing.
There the wicked cease from tumult, and there the wearied in strength are at rest.
For, behold, my witness is in heaven: and he that knoweth my conscience is on high.
He hath put my brethren far from me: and my acquaintance like strangers have departed from me.
Behold, there is no help for me in myself; and my familiar friends also are departed from me.