I went mourning but not in the sun: I stood up, and I cried in the congregation.
Behold, I cry out concerning wrong, but I am not heard: I cry aloud, but there is no justice.
My harp also is turned to mourning, and my flute into the voice of them that weep.
I am troubled; I am bowed down greatly; I go mourning all the day long.
I will say unto God my rock, Why have you forgotten me? why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?
For you are the God of my strength: why do you cast me off? why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?