15 Terrors are turned upon me; They chase mine honor as the wind; And my welfare is passed away as a cloud.
16 And now my soul is poured out within me; Days of affliction have taken hold upon me.
17 In the night season my bones are pierced in me, And the [pains] that gnaw me take no rest.
18 By [God`s] great force is my garment disfigured; It bindeth me about as the collar of my coat.
19 He hath cast me into the mire, And I am become like dust and ashes.
20 I cry unto thee, and thou dost not answer me: I stand up, and thou gazest at me.
21 Thou art turned to be cruel to me; With the might of thy hand thou persecutest me.