A Despairing Lament

A song; a psalm of the Korahites.
For the leader; according to Mahalath.
For singing; a maskil of Heman the Ezrahite.

Lord, my God, I call out by day; at night I cry aloud in your presence.

Let my prayer come before you; incline your ear to my cry.

For my soul is filled with troubles; my life draws near to Sheol.

I am reckoned with those who go down to the pit; I am weak, without strength.

My couch is among the dead, with the slain who lie in the grave.

You remember them no more; they are cut off from your care.

You plunged me into the bottom of the pit, into the darkness of the abyss.

Your wrath lies heavy upon me; all your waves crash over me.

Because of you my friends shun me; you make me loathsome to them; caged in, I cannot escape; my eyes grow dim from trouble.

All day I call on you, Lord; I stretch out my hands to you.

Do you work wonders for the dead?

Do the shades arise and praise you?

Is your love proclaimed in the grave, your fidelity in the tomb?

Are your marvels declared in the darkness, your righteous deeds in the land of oblivion?

But I cry out to you, Lord; in the morning my prayer comes before you.

Why do you reject me, Lord?

Why hide your face from me?

I am mortally afflicted since youth; lifeless, I suffer your terrible blows.

Your wrath has swept over me; your terrors have reduced me to silence.

All the day they surge round like a flood; from every side they close in on me.

Because of you companions shun me; my only friend is darkness.