7 May they disappear like water down a drain.
May they be crushed like weeds on a path.[a]
8 May they be like snails melting away as they move.
May they be like a baby born dead, who never saw the light of day.
9 May they be destroyed suddenly,
like the thorns that are burned to quickly heat a pot.
- Psalm 58:7 Or “May he shoot his arrows, cutting them down as if they were withering grass.”