My strength is dried up like broken pottery; my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, and you have brought me down to the dust of death.

LORD, you brought me from death; you kept me alive so that I did not descend into the Pit.

"What profit is there in my death if I go down to the Pit? Can dust worship you? Can it proclaim your faithfulness?"

In death, there is no memory of you. Who will give you thanks where the dead are?

He prepares weapons of death for himself, he makes his arrows into fiery shafts.

Be gracious to me, LORD, take note of my affliction, because of those who hate me. You snatch me away from the gates of death,

Look at me! Answer me, LORD, my God! Give light to my eyes! Otherwise, I will sleep in death;

The cords of death entangled me; the rivers of Belial made me afraid.

The cords of Sheol surrounded me; the snares of death confronted me.

For this God is our God forever and ever. He will guide us until death. To the Director: A song by the Sons of Korah.

Like sheep, they are destined for the realm of the dead, with death as their shepherd. The upright will have dominion over them in the morning; their strength will be consumed in the afterlife, so that they have no home.

My heart is trembling within me, and the terrors of death have assaulted me.

Let death seize them! May they be plunged alive into the afterlife, for wicked things are in their homes and among them.