8 You have not handed me over to the enemy.You have set my feet in a place where I can move freely.
9 Have pity on me, O Lord, because I am in distress.My eyes, my soul, and my body waste away from grief.
10 My life is exhausted from sorrow,my years from groaning.My strength staggers under ⌊the weight of⌋ my guilt,and my bones waste away.
11 I have become a disgrace because of all my opponents.I have become someone dreaded by my friends,even by my neighbors.Those who see me on the street run away from me.
12 I have faded from memory as if I were deadand have become like a piece of broken pottery.
13 I have heard the whispering of many people—terror on every side—while they made plans together against me.They were plotting to take my life.
14 I trust you, O Lord.I said, “You are my God.”