Job 17

¹My spirit is broken, my days are cut short, the grave awaits me.

²Surely mockers surround me; my eyes must dwell on their hostility.

³“Give me, O God, the pledge you demand. Who else will put up security for me?

⁴You have closed their minds to understanding; therefore you will not let them triumph.

⁵If anyone denounces their friends for reward, the eyes of their children will fail.

⁶“God has made me a byword to everyone, a man in whose face people spit.

⁷My eyes have grown dim with grief; my whole frame is but a shadow.

⁸The upright are appalled at this; the innocent are aroused against the ungodly.

⁹Nevertheless, the righteous will hold to their ways, and those with clean hands will grow stronger.

¹⁰“But come on, all of you, try again! I will not find a wise man among you.

¹¹My days have passed, my plans are shattered. Yet the desires of my heart

¹²turn night into day; in the face of the darkness light is near.

¹³If the only home I hope for is the grave, if I spread out my bed in the realm of darkness,

¹⁴if I say to corruption, ‘You are my father,’ and to the worm, ‘My mother’ or ‘My sister,’

¹⁵where then is my hope— who can see any hope for me?

¹⁶Will it go down to the gates of death? Will we descend together into the dust?”