Job 7:1-10

1Isn’t each person consigned to forced labor on earth? Are not his days like those of a hired worker?

2Like a slave he longs for shade; like a hired worker he waits for his pay.

3So I have been made to inherit months of futility, and troubled nights have been assigned to me.

4When I lie down I think, “When will I get up?” But the evening drags on endlessly, and I toss and turn until dawn.

5My flesh is clothed with maggots and encrusted with dirt. My skin forms scabs and then oozes.

6My days pass more swiftly than a weaver’s shuttle; they come to an end without hope.

7Remember that my life is but a breath. My eye will never again see anything good.

8The eye of anyone who looks on me will no longer see me. Your eyes will look for me, but I will be gone.

9As a cloud fades away and vanishes, so the one who goes down to Sheol will never rise again.

10He will never return to his house; his hometown will no longer remember him.