For my soul is full of troubles: and my life draws near unto the grave.
Their soul abhors all manner of food; and they draw near unto the gates of death.
He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
They mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths: their soul is melted because of trouble.
In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord: my sore ran in the night, and ceased not: my soul refused to be comforted.
Yea, his soul draws near unto the grave, and his life to those who bring death.
[A prayer of David.] Hear the right, O LORD, attend unto my cry, give ear unto my prayer, that goes not out of feigned lips.