He breaks me down on every side, and I am gone; he has uprooted my hope like a tree.
The womb forgets them; the worm finds them sweet; they are no longer remembered, so wickedness is broken like a tree.
If he tears down, no one can rebuild; if he shuts someone in, no one can open up.
My days are like a lengthening shadow; I wither away like grass.
where then is my hope? Who will see my hope?
My days are past; my plans are broken off, the desires of my heart.
My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle and come to their end without hope.
What is my strength, that I should wait? And what is my end, that I should be patient?
So the accuser went out from the presence of the Lord and inflicted loathsome sores on Job from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head.
the waters wear away the stones; the torrents wash away the soil of the earth; so you destroy the hope of mortals.