I’m pleading with you, Yahweh, help me! Don’t close your ears to my cry, for you’re my defender. If you continue to remain aloof and refuse to answer me, I might as well give up and die.
Yahweh, you’re the bedrock beneath my feet, my faith-fortress, my wonderful deliverer, my God, my rock of rescue where none can reach me. You’re the shield around me, the mighty power that saves me, and my high place.
The mighty angel threw him into the pit, locked it, and sealed it so that he could no longer deceive the nations until the thousand years were over. (After that he must be loosed for a brief time.)
The grave and those buried there cannot praise you. Neither the realm of death nor those who enter it can give you thanks or hope for your faithfulness.
Yahweh, my caring God, you have been there all along. You have seen their hypocrisy. Yahweh, don’t let them get away with this. Don’t walk away without doing something.
“What would you gain in my death, if I were to go down to the depths of darkness? Will a grave sing your song? How could death’s dust declare your faithfulness?”
Why do you remain distant, refusing to answer my tearful cries in the day and my desperate cries for your help in the night? I can’t stop sobbing. Where are you, my God?
Lord, listen to all my tender cries. Read my every tear, like liquid words that plead for your help. I feel all alone at times, like a stranger to you, passing through this life just like all those before me.
I will say to God, “You are my mountain of strength; how could you forget me? Why must I suffer this vile oppression of my enemies— these heartless tormentors who are out to kill me?”