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22 You snatch me up into the wind and drive me before it; You toss me about in the storm. 23 Yes, I know that You will bring me down to death, to the place appointed for all the living. 24 Yet no one stretches out his hand against a ruined man when he cries for help in his distress. 25 Have I not wept for those in trouble? Has my soul not grieved for the needy? 26 But when I hoped for good, evil came; when I looked for light, darkness fell. 27 I am churning within and cannot rest; days of affliction confront me. 28 I go about blackened, but not by the sun. I stand up in the assembly and cry for help. 29 I have become a brother of jackals, a companion of ostriches. 30 My skin grows black and peels, and my bones burn with fever. 31 My harp is tuned to mourning and my flute to the sound of weeping. Job 30:22-31, Berean Standard Bible. Public domain.
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