A song from the edge of death

9A writing of Hezekiah king of Judah, when he had been sick and had recovered from his sickness:

10I said, “In the middle of my days I must go through the gates of Sheol; I am deprived of the rest of my years.”

11I said, “I will not see Yah, Yah in the land of the living; I will no longer look on man among the inhabitants of cessation.”

12My dwelling is pulled up and carried away from me like a shepherd’s tent; I have rolled up my life like a weaver; from the loom he cuts me off. From day to night you bring me to an end.

13I waited until morning; like a lion, so he breaks all my bones. From day to night you bring me to an end.

14Like a swift or a crane, so I chirp; I moan like a dove. My eyes grow weak looking upward. Lord, I am oppressed; be my pledge.