I go mourning without the sun: I stand up in the assembly, and cry for help.
Behold, I cry out of wrong, but I am not heard: I cry for help, but there is no judgement
Therefore is my harp turned to mourning, And my pipe into the voice of them that weep.
I am pained and bowed down greatly; I go mourning all the day long.
I will say unto God my rock, Why hast thou forgotten me? Why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?
For thou art the God of my strength; why hast thou cast me off? Why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?