They tell me I will die.
They tell me to despair.
Their sour words fill my mouth,
I breathe, yet find no air.
All hope has left my life,
for evil surrounds me.
The wicked hack at my heart,
and they do not hear my plea.
The wicked bend their bows.
Their arrows pierce my heart.
They attack my foundation.
They wound me from the start.
Yet what can mere men do?
They cannot shoot me down.
My foundation is not stone.
They cannot make me drown.
The Lord is on his throne.
He observes my trials.
He's in his holy temple,
The Lord, he sees for miles.
My God hates the wicked,
and the righteous he loves.
So who can e'en defeat me
if I love as God does?
The wicked, they will burn,
but God will show his face
to those who turn to justice.
In him, I will find grace.
