I cry aloud to God, aloud to God, that he may hear me.
In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord; in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying; my soul refuses to be comforted.
I think of God, and I moan; I meditate, and my spirit faints. [Selah]
Thou dost hold my eyelids from closing; I am so troubled that I cannot speak.
I consider the days of old, I remember the years long ago.
I commune with my heart in the night; I meditate and search my spirit:
"Will the Lord spurn for ever, and never again be favorable?
Has his steadfast love for ever ceased? Are his promises at an end for all time?