15 Terrors are turned upon me; They chase mine honor as the wind; And my welfare is passed away as a cloud.
16 And now my soul is poured out within me; Days of affliction have taken hold upon me.
17 In the night season my bones are pierced in me, And the pains that gnaw me take no rest.
18 By God’s great force is my garment disfigured; It bindeth me about as the collar of my coat.
19 He hath cast me into the mire, And I am become like dust and ashes.
20 I cry unto thee, and thou dost not answer me: I stand up, and thou gazest at me.
21 Thou art turned to be cruel to me; With the might of thy hand thou persecutest me.