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I am exhausted from calling for help.
    My throat is parched.
        My eyes are strained from looking for God.

Those who hate me without cause
    are more than the hairs of my head.
My persecutors are mighty,
    and they want to destroy me.
        Must I be forced to return what I did not steal?
God, you know my sins,
    and my guilt is not hidden from you.

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