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22 You lift me up to the wind and make me ride it, You toss me about in the storm. 23 For I know that You will bring me to death, and to the house of appointment to all the living. 24 Surely one does not stretch out a hand against the oppressed, when in his ruin he cries out to him. 25 If not did I weep for the harshness of day, while my soul grieved for the needy one? 26 And, I hoped for good, and evil came; and I waited for light, and darkness came. 27 My bowels have boiled and they do not rest; days of affliction confront me. 28 I go about darkened, not by the sun; I rise up in the assembly and cry out. 29 I have become a brother to jackals, and a companion to the daughters of the ostrich. 30 My skin turns black and falls from me, and my bone burns with heat. 31 And my harp is changed to mourning, and my flute to the voice of weeping. Job 30:22-31, Berean Literal Bible. Public domain.
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