The dead praise not the LORD, neither any that go down into silence.
What profit is there in my blood, when I go down to the pit? Shall the dust praise you? shall it declare your truth?
Let me not be ashamed, O LORD; for I have called upon you: let the wicked be ashamed, and let them be silent in the grave.
For in death there is no remembrance of you: in the grave who shall give you thanks?
I am weary with my groaning; all the night make I my bed wet with tears; I water my couch with my tears.
He will keep the feet of his saints, and the wicked shall be silent in darkness; for by strength shall no man prevail.