Job 30:24-31

“Surely He would not stretch out His hand against a heap of ruins, If they cry out when He destroys it. Have I not wept for him who was in trouble? Has not my soul grieved for the poor? But when I looked for good, evil came to me; And when I waited for light, then came darkness. My heart is in turmoil and cannot rest; Days of affliction confront me. I go about mourning, but not in the sun; I stand up in the assembly and cry out for help. I am a brother of jackals, And a companion of ostriches. My skin grows black and falls from me; My bones burn with fever. My harp is turned to mourning, And my flute to the voice of those who weep.