18. With great force my garment is disfigured;it binds me about like the collar of my tunic.
19. God has cast me into the mire,and I have become like dust and ashes.
20. I cry to you for help and you do not answer me;I stand, and you only look at me.
21. You have turned cruel to me;with the might of your hand you persecute me.
22. You lift me up on the wind; you make me ride on it,and you toss me about in the roar of the storm.
23. For I know that you will bring me to deathand to the house appointed for all living.
24. “Yet does not one in a heap of ruins stretch out his hand,and in his disaster cry for help?
25. Did not I weep for him whose day was hard?Was not my soul grieved for the needy?