7 My soul refuses to touch them.They are as loathsome food to me.
8 “Oh that I might have my request,that God would grant the thing that I long for,
9 even that it would please God to crush me;that he would let loose his hand, and cut me off!
10 Be it still my consolation,yes, let me exult in pain that doesn’t spare,that I have not denied the words of the Holy One.
11 What is my strength, that I should wait?What is my end, that I should be patient?
12 Is my strength the strength of stones?Or is my flesh of bronze?
13 Isn’t it that I have no help in me,That wisdom is driven quite from me?