[1] Job Complains to God My hopes have died, my time is up, and the grave is ready. [2] All I can see are angry crowds, making fun of me. [3] If you, LORD, don't help, who will pay the price for my release? [4] My friends won't really listen, all because of you, and so you must be the one to prove them wrong. [5] They have condemned me, just to benefit themselves; now blind their children. [6] You, God, are the reason I am insulted and spit on. [7] I am almost blind with grief; my body is a mere shadow. [8] People who are truly good would feel so alarmed, that they would become angry at my worthless friends. [9] They would do the right thing and because they did, they would grow stronger. [10] But none of my friends show any sense. [11] My life is drawing to an end; hope has disappeared. [12] But all my friends can do is offer empty hopes. [13] I could tell the world below to prepare me a bed. [14] Then I could greet the grave as my father and say to the worms, "Hello, mother and sisters!" [15] But what kind of hope is that? [16] Will it keep me company in the world of the dead?
