Psalms 142

1 A maskil of David, when he was in the cave. A prayer. I call out to the Lord for help; pleading with the Lord for mercy.

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.

2 I pour out my complaints before him; I tell him what's troubling me.

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

3 When I'm totally discouraged, you know the direction I should take. But whichever way I go, people set traps for me.

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

4 I look to my right for someone to support me—but no one pays me any attention. There's no safe place for me—no one cares about me at all.

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.

5 I cry out to you, Lord, for help, saying, “You are the one who keeps me safe; you are all I need in life.

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.

6 Please listen to my sad cry, for I'm feeling very low. Please save me from those who are after me, for they're too strong for me.

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.

7 Release me from my prison so I can praise you for the person you are! Those who live right will gather round me because you have treated me so well.”

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.