O Lord, my God, I call for help by day
I cry out in the night before thee
Let my prayer come before thee
Incline thy ear to my cry!

For my soul is full of troubles
And my life draws near to Sheol
I am reckoned among those who go down to the pit;
I am a man who has no strength
Like one forsaken among the dead
Like the slain that lie in the grave
Like those whom thou dost remember no more
For they are cut off from thy hand

Thou hast put me in the depths of the Pit
In the regions dark and deep
Thy wrath lies heavy upon me
And thou dost overwhelm me with all thy waves

Thou hast caused my companion to shun me;
Thou has made me a thing of horror to them

I am shut in so that I cannot escape;
My eye grows dim through sorrow
Every day I call upon thee, O Lord
I spread out my hands to thee

Dost thou work wonders for the dead?
Do the shades rise up to praise thee?
Is the steadfast love declared in the grave
Or thy faithfulness in Abaddon?
Are thy wonders known in the darkness
Or thy saving help in the land of forgetfulness?

But I, O Lord, cry to thee;
In the morning my prayer comes before thee
O Lord, why dost thou cast me off?
Why dost thou hide thy face from me?
Afflicted and close to death from my youth up,
I suffer thy terrors;
I am helpless
Thy wrath has swept over me;
Thy dread assaults destroy me
They surround me like a flood all day long
They close in upon me together
Thou hast caused lover and friend to shun me
My companions are in darkness

Psalm 88