The dying do not praise Jehovah, nor all who go down into silence;
What profit is in my blood, in going down to the Pit? Shall the dust praise You? Shall it tell of Your truth?
Let me not be ashamed, O Jehovah; for I have called upon You; let the wicked ones be ashamed; let them be silent in Sheol.
For there is no memory of You in death; who shall give thanks to You in Sheol?
I am weary in my groaning; I shall make my bed swim in all the night; I melt my couch with my tears.
He keeps the feet of His godly ones, and the wicked ones are silenced in darkness; for not by power a man is mighty.