Psalms 142

A Maskil of David, when he was in the cave. A prayer.

With my voice I cry unto the Lord: with my voice I make supplication unto the Lord. I pour out before him my grief: my distress I recite before him. When my spirit was overwhelmed within me—and thou knowest well my path—on the way whereon I desired to walk they had secretly laid a snare for me. Look to the right, and behold, yea, there is no man that recognizeth me: every refuge is lost to me; there is no one that careth for my soul. I cried unto thee, O Lord: I said, Thou art my refuge, my portion in the land of life. Listen unto my entreaty; for I am very miserable: deliver me from my pursuers; for they are too mighty for me. Bring forth out of prison my soul, that I may thank thy name: with me shall the righteous crown themselves, when thou wilt deal bountifully with me.
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