Job 7:1-7

“Is there not a time of hard service for man on earth? Are not his days also like the days of a hired man? Like a servant who earnestly desires the shade, And like a hired man who eagerly looks for his wages, So I have been allotted months of futility, And wearisome nights have been appointed to me. When I lie down, I say, ‘When shall I arise, And the night be ended?’ For I have had my fill of tossing till dawn. My flesh is caked with worms and dust, My skin is cracked and breaks out afresh. “My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, And are spent without hope. Oh, remember that my life is a breath! My eye will never again see good.