Psalm 88                                           Tuesday Midday 4.  Friday Compline

                           Yahweh, my God, my Savior, * day and night I cry to you.

                           May my prayer come before you; * turn your ear to my cry.

For my soul is full of troubles, * and my life has reached Sheol.

I am listed as gone down to the Pit; * I have become a strengthless man.

    In Death-Land is my mat * just like the slaughtered * my couch is in the Grave,

    where you remember them no longer, * since they are cut off from your love.

    You have plunged me into the lowest Pit, * into regions dark and deep.

    Your rage weighs heavy on me, * and with all your outbursts you afflict me.

You have taken my companions away from me, * made me an abomination to them.

Imprisoned, I cannot escape; * my eyes grow dim through affliction.

 

    I call to you daily, Yahweh; * I spread out my hands to you.

        Do you work marvels for the dead; * do the departed rise up to praise you?

           Is your kindness declared in the Grave, * your fidelity in Abaddon?

        Are your marvels made known in the Darkness, * your generosity in the Land of Forgetfulness?

    But I am calling to you, Yahweh, * at dawn let my prayer come before you.

 

Why, Yahweh, do you rebuff me; * why do you turn your face from me?

Afflicted and groaning, I die; * I suffer from the terrors of your torture.

        Your furies have swept over me; * your dread assaults have destroyed me.

    They surround me like a flood * all day long * they close in on me when I'm alone.

You have taken far away my friendly neighbors; * my only companion is the Darkness.

 

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