He drew his bow and made me the target for his arrows.
The arrows of the Almighty are in me, my spirit drinks in their poison; God’s terrors are marshaled against me.
If I have sinned, what have I done to you, you who see everything we do? Why have you made me your target? Have I become a burden to you?
Your arrows have pierced me, and your hand has come down on me.
Like an enemy he has strung his bow; his right hand is ready. Like a foe he has slain all who were pleasing to the eye; he has poured out his wrath like fire on the tent of Daughter Zion.