Treasury of Scripture Knowledge
My throat is dry like a broken vessel; my tongue is fixed to the roof of my mouth, and the dust of death is on my lips.
My skin is black and dropping off me; and my bones are burning with the heat of my disease.
Their face is blacker than night; in the streets no one has knowledge of them: their skin is hanging on their bones, they are dry, they have become like wood.
Our skin is heated like an oven because of our burning heat from need of food.