Job 7:5
My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust. My skin closes up, and breaks out afresh.
My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust. My skin closes up, and breaks out afresh.
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4 My flesh and my skin has he made old; he has broken my bones.
3 For my days consume away like smoke. My bones are burned as a firebrand.
4 My heart is blighted like grass, and withered, For I forget to eat my bread.
5 By reason of the voice of my groaning, My bones stick to my skin.
6 My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, And are spent without hope.
14 He breaks me with breach on breach. He runs on me like a giant.
15 I have sewed sackcloth on my skin, And have thrust my horn in the dust.
16 My face is red with weeping. Deep darkness is on my eyelids.
5 My wounds are loathsome and corrupt, Because of my foolishness.
6 I am pained and bowed down greatly. I go mourning all day long.
7 For my loins are filled with burning. There is no soundness in my flesh.
8 I am faint and severely bruised. I have groaned by reason of the anguish of my heart.
3 So am I made to possess months of misery, Wearisome nights are appointed to me.
4 When I lie down, I say, 'When shall I arise, and the night be gone?' I toss and turn until the dawning of the day.
20 So that his life abhors bread, And his soul dainty food.
21 His flesh is so consumed away, that it can't be seen; His bones that were not seen stick out.
26 After my skin is destroyed, Then in my flesh shall I see God,
16 "Now my soul is poured out within me. Days of affliction have taken hold on me.
17 In the night season my bones are pierced in me, And the pains that gnaw me take no rest.
18 By great force is my garment disfigured. It binds me about as the collar of my coat.
19 He has cast me into the mire. I have become like dust and ashes.
28 Though I am decaying like a rotten thing, Like a garment that is moth-eaten.
14 I am poured out like water. All my bones are out of joint. My heart is like wax; It is melted within me.
15 My strength is dried up like a potsherd. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. You have brought me into the dust of death.
30 My skin grows black and peels from me. My bones are burned with heat.
10 For my life is spent with sorrow, My years with sighing. My strength fails because of my iniquity. My bones are wasted away.
20 My bones stick to my skin and to my flesh. I have escaped by the skin of my teeth.
1 "My spirit is consumed, my days are extinct, And the grave is ready for me.
6 But I am a worm, and no man; A reproach of men, and despised by the people.
7 But now, God, you have surely worn me out. You have made desolate all my company.
8 You have shriveled me up. This is a witness against me. My leanness rises up against me, It testifies to my face.
14 If I have said to corruption, 'You are my father;' To the worm, 'My mother,' and 'my sister;'
15 Where then is my hope? As for my hope, who shall see it?
7 My soul refuses to touch them; They are as loathsome food to me.
11 You have clothed me with skin and flesh, And knit me together with bones and sinews.
31 Yet you will plunge me in the ditch. My own clothes shall abhor me.
7 "As when one plows and breaks up the earth, Our bones are scattered at the mouth of Sheol."
12 My dwelling is removed, and is carried away from me as a shepherd's tent: I have rolled up, like a weaver, my life; he will cut me off from the loom: From day even to night will you make an end of me.
6 How much less man, who is a worm! The son of man, who is a worm!"
7 My eye also is dim by reason of sorrow. All my members are as a shadow.
16 I loathe my life. I don't want to live forever. Leave me alone; for my days are but a breath.
16 He has also broken my teeth with gravel stones; he has covered me with ashes.
26 They lie down alike in the dust, The worm covers them.
3 There is no soundness in my flesh because of your indignation, Neither is there any health in my bones because of my sin.
4 Therefore my spirit is overwhelmed within me. My heart within me is desolate.
6 When I remember, I am troubled. Horror takes hold of my flesh.
1 Misery is mine! Indeed, I am like one who gathers the summer fruits, as gleanings of the vinyard: There is no cluster of grapes to eat. My soul desires to eat the early fig.
13 From on high has he sent fire into my bones, and it prevails against them; He has spread a net for my feet, he has turned me back: He has made me desolate and faint all the day.
21 Why do you not pardon my disobedience, and take away my iniquity? For now shall I lie down in the dust. You will seek me diligently, but I shall not be."
11 My days are like a long shadow. I have withered like grass.