He beats me down on every side until I am gone; he destroys my hope like a fallen tree.
What he tears down cannot be rebuilt; anyone he puts in prison cannot be let out.
Water washes over stones and wears them down, and rushing waters wash away the dirt. In the same way, you destroy hope.
My days are gone, and my plans have been destroyed, along with the desires of my heart.
where, then, is my hope? Who can see any hope for me?
So Satan left the Lord’s presence. He put painful sores on Job’s body, from the top of his head to the soles of his feet.
Their mothers forget them, and worms will eat their bodies. They will not be remembered, so wickedness is broken in pieces like a stick.
“I do not have the strength to wait. There is nothing to hope for, so why should I be patient?
“My days go by faster than a weaver’s tool, and they come to an end without hope.
My days are like a passing shadow; I am like dried grass.