“Oh, that I might have my request, That God would grant me the thing that I long for!
My soul faints for Your salvation, But I hope in Your word.
My soul refuses to touch them; They are as loathsome food to me.
That it would please God to crush me, That He would loose His hand and cut me off!
Therefore now, O Lord, please take my life from me, for it is better for me to die than to live!”
But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a broom tree. And he prayed that he might die, and said, “It is enough! Now, Lord, take my life, for I am no better than my fathers!”
Who long for death, but it does not come, And search for it more than hidden treasures;
Who rejoice exceedingly, And are glad when they can find the grave?
“My soul loathes my life; I will give free course to my complaint, I will speak in the bitterness of my soul.