Job 16:6-17

Instead, I suffer if I defend myself, and I suffer no less if I refuse to speak. “O God, you have ground me down and devastated my family. As if to prove I have sinned, you’ve reduced me to skin and bones. My gaunt flesh testifies against me. God hates me and angrily tears me apart. He snaps his teeth at me and pierces me with his eyes. People jeer and laugh at me. They slap my cheek in contempt. A mob gathers against me. God has handed me over to sinners. He has tossed me into the hands of the wicked. “I was living quietly until he shattered me. He took me by the neck and broke me in pieces. Then he set me up as his target, and now his archers surround me. His arrows pierce me without mercy. The ground is wet with my blood. Again and again he smashes against me, charging at me like a warrior. I wear burlap to show my grief. My pride lies in the dust. My eyes are red with weeping; dark shadows circle my eyes. Yet I have done no wrong, and my prayer is pure.