Job.
Chapter 17.
My spirit is crushed; my life is extinguished; the grave is ready for me. 
Mockers surround me. I see how bitterly they ridicule me. 
God, you need to put down a pledge for me with yourself, for who else will be my guarantor? 
You have closed their minds to understanding, so do not let them win! 
They betray friends to gain benefit for themselves and their children suffer for it. 
He has made me a proverb of ridicule among the people; they spit in my face. 
My eyes are worn out from crying and my body is a shadow of its former self. 
People who think they are good are shocked to see me. Those who are innocent are troubled by the godless. 
Those who are right keep going, and those whose hands are clean grow stronger and stronger. 
Why don't you come back and repeat again what you've been saying?—yet I still won't find a wise man among you! 
My life is over. My plans are gone. My heart is broken. 
They turn night into day, and say that daylight is close to darkness. 
What am I looking for? To make my home in Sheol, to make my bed in darkness? 
Should I call the grave my father, and the maggot my mother or my sister? 
So then where is my hope? Can anyone see any hope for me? 
Will hope go down with me to the gates of Sheol? Will we go down together into the dust?” 
