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No one is going to praise you
    when they are dead.
Who gives you thanks
    from the grave?[a]

I’m worn out from groaning.
    Every night, I drench my bed with tears;
    I soak my couch all the way through.
My vision fails because of my grief;
    it’s weak because of all my distress.

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Footnotes

  1. Psalm 6:5 Heb Sheol

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