He has caused the arrows of his quiver to enter into my heart.
The arrow cannot make him flee: clingstones with him are turned into stubble.
For the arrows of the Almighty are within me, the poison thereof drinks up my spirit: the terrors of God do set themselves in array against me.
Their quiver is as an open sepulcher, they are all mighty men.
He has bent his bow like an enemy: he stood with his right hand as an adversary, and has slain all that were pleasant to the eye in the tent of the daughter of Zion: he poured out his fury like fire.
I will heap evils upon them; I will spend my arrows upon them.