Psalms 142

1 A Maskil of David, when he was in the cave. A prayer. I cry aloud to the LORD; I lift my voice to the LORD for mercy.

“A Maskil of David, when he was in the cave. A prayer.” With my voice I cry unto the Lord: with my voice I make supplication unto the Lord.

2 I pour out my complaint before Him; I reveal my trouble to Him.

I pour out before him my grief: my distress I recite before him.

3 Although my spirit grows faint within me, You know my way. Along the path I travel they have hidden a snare for me.

When my spirit was overwhelmed within me—and thou knowest well my path—on the way whereon I desired to walk they had secretly laid a snare for me.

4 Look to my right and see; no one attends to me. There is no refuge for me; no one cares for my soul.

Look to the right, and behold, yea, there is no man that recognizeth me: [every] refuge is lost to me; there is no one that careth for my soul.

5 I cry to You, O LORD: “You are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living.”

I cried unto thee, O Lord: I said, Thou art my refuge, my portion in the land of life.

6 Listen to my cry, for I am brought quite low. Rescue me from my pursuers, for they are too strong for me.

Listen unto my entreaty; for I am very miserable: deliver me from my pursuers; for they are too mighty for me.

7 Free my soul from prison, that I may praise Your name. The righteous will gather around me because of Your goodness to me.

Bring forth out of prison my soul, that I may thank thy name: with me shall the righteous crown themselves, when thou wilt deal bountifully with me.