Job 7:1-8 NIV

[1] “Do not mortals have hard service on earth? Are not their days like those of hired laborers? [2] Like a slave longing for the evening shadows, or a hired laborer waiting to be paid, [3] so I have been allotted months of futility, and nights of misery have been assigned to me. [4] When I lie down I think, ‘How long before I get up?’ The night drags on, and I toss and turn until dawn. [5] My body is clothed with worms and scabs, my skin is broken and festering. [6] “My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and they come to an end without hope. [7] Remember, O God, that my life is but a breath; my eyes will never see happiness again. [8] The eye that now sees me will see me no longer; you will look for me, but I will be no more.