Psalms 142

1 Maschil. Of David. A prayer when he was in the hole of the rock. The sound of my cry went up to the Lord; with my voice I made my prayer for grace to the Lord.

“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 put all my sorrows before him; and made clear to him all my trouble.

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

3 When my spirit is overcome, your eyes are on my goings; nets have been secretly placed in the way in which I go.

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 Looking to my right side, I saw no man who was my friend: I had no safe place; no one had any care 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 have made my cry to you, O Lord; I have said, You are my safe place, and my heritage 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 Give ear to my cry, for I am made very low: take me out of the hands of my haters, for they are stronger than I.

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

7 Take my soul out of prison, so that I may give praise to your name: the upright will give praise because of me; for you have given me a full reward.

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.