Should I lie against my right? My wound is incurable without transgression.
For the arrows of the Almighty are within me, The poison whereof drinketh up my spirit: The terrors of God do set themselves in array against me.
His archers compass me round about, He cleaveth my reins asunder, and doth not spare; He poureth out my gall upon the ground.
Why is my pain perpetual, and my wound incurable, which refuseth to be healed? wilt thou be altogether unto me as a liar, and as waters that fail?
I am clean without transgression, I am innocent; neither is there iniquity in me.