6 My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope.
7 O remember that my life is a breath: my eye shall no more see good.
8 The eye of him that has seen me shall see me no more: your eyes are upon me, and I am not.
9 As the cloud is consumed and vanishes away: so he that goes down to the grave shall come up no more.
10 He shall return no more to his house, neither shall his place know him any more.
11 Therefore I will not restrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.
12 Am I a sea, or a sea monster, that you set a watch over me?