Job 7:1-10

Is there not an appointed time to man upon earth? Are not his days also like the days of an hireling? As a servant earnestly desireth the shadow, And as an hireling looketh for the reward of his work: So am I made to possess months of vanity, And wearisome nights are appointed to me. When I lie down, I say, When shall I arise, and the night be gone? And I am full of tossings to and fro unto the dawning of the day. My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; My skin is broken, and become loathsome. My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, And are spent without hope. O remember that my life is wind: Mine eye shall no more see good. The eye of him that hath seen me shall see me no more: Thine eyes are upon me, and I am not. As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away: So he that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more. He shall return no more to his house, Neither shall his place know him any more.