There is no healthy spot from the bottom of your foot to the top of your head; you are covered with wounds, hurts, and open sores that are not cleaned and covered, and no medicine takes away the pain.
Your pride has been sent down to the place of the dead. The music from your harps goes with it. Flies are spread out like your bed beneath you, and worms cover your body like a blanket.
“They will go out and see the dead bodies of the people who sinned against me. The worms that eat them will never die, and the fires that burn them will never stop, and everyone will hate to see those bodies.”