Psalms 142

1 I CRIED unto the Lord with my voice; with my voice unto the Lord did I make my supplication.

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.

2 I poured out my complaint before him; I shewed before him my trouble.

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

3 When my spirit was overwhelmed within me, then thou knewest my path. In the way wherein I walked have they privily laid a snare for me.

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

4 I looked on my right hand, and beheld, but there was no man that would know me: refuge failed me; no man cared for my soul.

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.

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

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

6 Attend unto my cry; for I am brought very low: deliver me from my persecutors; for they are stronger than I.

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.

7 Bring my soul out of prison, that I may praise thy name: the righteous shall compass me about; for thou shalt deal bountifully with me.

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.”