Foul and festering are my sores because of my folly.
I go about in gloom, without the sun; I rise in the assembly and cry for help.
My flesh is clothed with worms and scabs; my skin cracks and festers;
Some fell sick from their wicked ways, afflicted because of their sins.
The Lord supports all who are falling and raises up all who are bowed down.
Be gracious to me, Lord, for I am in distress; affliction is wearing down my eyes, my throat and my insides.
I went about in grief as for my brother, bent in mourning as for my mother.
Those times I recall as I pour out my soul, When I would cross over to the shrine of the Mighty One, to the house of God, Amid loud cries of thanksgiving, with the multitude keeping festival.
By day may the Lord send his mercy, and by night may his righteousness be with me! I will pray to the God of my life,
You, O God, are my strength. Why then do you spurn me? Why must I go about mourning, with the enemy oppressing me?
Be exalted over the heavens, God; may your glory appear above all the earth.
For in death there is no remembrance of you. Who praises you in Sheol?
Because of you my acquaintances shun me; you make me loathsome to them; Caged in, I cannot escape;
Like a swallow I chirp; I moan like a dove. My eyes grow weary looking heavenward: Lord, I am overwhelmed; go security for me!