Job 10

¹ My soul is weary of my life; I will give free course to my complaint; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul.

² I will say unto God, Do not condemn me; Show me wherefore thou contendest with me.

³ Is it good unto thee that thou shouldest oppress, That thou shouldest despise the work of thy hands, And shine upon the counsel of the wicked?

⁴ Hast thou eyes of flesh? Or seest thou as man seeth?

⁵ Are thy days as the days of man, Or thy years as man’s days,

⁶ That thou inquirest after mine iniquity, And searchest after my sin,

⁷ Although thou knowest that I am not wicked, And there is none that can deliver out of thy hand?

⁸ Thy hands have framed me and fashioned me Together round about; yet thou dost destroy me.

⁹ Remember, I beseech thee, that thou hast fashioned me as clay; And wilt thou bring me into dust again?

¹⁰ Hast thou not poured me out as milk, And curdled me like cheese?

¹¹ Thou hast clothed me with skin and flesh, And knit me together with bones and sinews.

¹² Thou hast granted me life and lovingkindness; And thy visitation hath preserved my spirit.

¹³ Yet these things thou didst hide in thy heart; I know that this is with thee:

¹⁴ If I sin, then thou markest me, And thou wilt not acquit me from mine iniquity.

¹⁵ If I be wicked, woe unto me; And if I be righteous, yet shall I not lift up my head; Being filled with ignominy, And looking upon mine affliction.

¹⁶ And if my head exalt itself, thou huntest me as a lion; And again thou showest thyself marvellous upon me.

¹⁷ Thou renewest thy witnesses against me, And increasest thine indignation upon me: Changes and warfare are with me.

¹⁸ Wherefore then hast thou brought me forth out of the womb? I had given up the ghost, and no eye had seen me.

¹⁹ I should have been as though I had not been; I should have been carried from the womb to the grave.

²⁰ Are not my days few? cease then, And let me alone, that I may take comfort a little,

²¹ Before I go whence I shall not return, Even to the land of darkness and of the shadow of death;

²² The land dark as midnight, The land of the shadow of death, without any order, And where the light is as midnight.