My eyes grow weak because of oppression. I call out to you, O Lord, all day long; I spread out my hands in prayer to you.

A song, a psalm written by the Korahites; for the music director; according to the machalath-leannoth style; a well-written song by Heman the Ezrachite. O Lord God who delivers me! By day I cry out and at night I pray before you.

For my life is filled with troubles and I am ready to enter Sheol.

Do you accomplish amazing things for the dead? Do the departed spirits rise up and give you thanks? (Selah)

Is your loyal love proclaimed in the grave, or your faithfulness in the place of the dead?

As for me, I cry out to you, O Lord; in the morning my prayer confronts you.

Listen to my prayer! Pay attention to my cry for help!

adrift among the dead, like corpses lying in the grave, whom you remember no more, and who are cut off from your power.

You cause those who know me to keep their distance; you make me an appalling sight to them. I am trapped and cannot get free.

You place me in the lowest regions of the pit, in the dark places, in the watery depths.

They treat me like those who descend into the grave. I am like a helpless man,

You cause my friends and neighbors to keep their distance; those who know me leave me alone in the darkness.

Your anger bears down on me, and you overwhelm me with all your waves. (Selah)

I am oppressed and have been on the verge of death since my youth. I have been subjected to your horrors and am numb with pain.

Your anger overwhelms me; your terrors destroy me.

O Lord, why do you reject me, and pay no attention to me?

Are your amazing deeds experienced in the dark region, or your deliverance in the land of oblivion?

They surround me like water all day long; they join forces and encircle me.