The dead do not praise Jehovah, nor do any 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 on You; Let the wicked be ashamed; let them be silent in the grave.
For in death there is no memory of You; in the grave who shall give You thanks?
I am weary in my groaning; all the night I make my bed swim; I melt my couch with my tears.
He keeps the feet of his saints, and the wicked are silenced in darkness; for by strength shall no man prevail.