14 He breaketh me with breach upon breach; he runneth upon me like a mighty man.
15 I have sewed sackcloth upon my skin, and rolled my horn in the dust.
16 My face is red with weeping, and on my eyelids is the shadow of death;
17 Although there is no violence in my hands, and my prayer is pure.
18 O earth, cover not my blood, and let there be no place for my cry!
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