Though I speak, my pain is not held back, and though I forbear, in what way am I eased?
My soul is weary of my life; I will leave my complaint on my self; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul.
I might make you strong with my mouth, and the moving of my lips would spare you.
If I say, I will forget my complaint, I will depart from my heaviness and be of good cheer,
I am afraid of all my sorrows; I know that You will not hold me innocent.