For my days vanish like smoke,
and my bones burn like a furnace.

Because of the sound of my groaning,
my flesh sticks to my bones.

He wore cursing like his coat—
let it enter his body like water
and go into his bones like oil.

My bones were not hidden from You
when I was made in secret,
when I was formed in the depths of the earth.

As when one plows and breaks up the soil,
turning up rocks,
so our bones have been scattered
at the mouth of Sheol.

Be gracious to me, Lord, for I am weak;
heal me, Lord, for my bones are shaking;

I am poured out like water,
and all my bones are disjointed;
my heart is like wax,
melting within me.

I can count all my bones;
people look and stare at me.

Indeed, my life is consumed with grief
and my years with groaning;
my strength has failed
because of my sinfulness,
and my bones waste away.

When I kept silent, my bones became brittle
from my groaning all day long.

He protects all his bones;
not one of them is broken.

My very bones will say,
“Lord, who is like You,
rescuing the poor from one too strong for him,
the poor or the needy from one who robs him?”

There is no health in my body
because of Your indignation;
there is no strength in my bones
because of my sin.

My adversaries taunt me,
as if crushing my bones,
while all day long they say to me,
“Where is your God?”

Let me hear joy and gladness;
let the bones You have crushed rejoice.

Then they will be filled with terror—
terror like no other—
because God will scatter
the bones of those who besiege you.
You will put them to shame,
for God has rejected them.