¹¹ For God has cut my bowstring.
    He has humbled me,
    so they have thrown off all restraint.

¹⁸ With a strong hand, God grabs my shirt.^[a]
    He grips me by the collar of my coat.
¹⁹ He has thrown me into the mud.
    I’m nothing more than dust and ashes.

²⁰ “I cry to you, O God, but you don’t answer.
    I stand before you, but you don’t even look.
²¹ You have become cruel toward me.
    You use your power to persecute me.
²² You throw me into the whirlwind
    and destroy me in the storm.
²³ And I know you are sending me to my death—
    the destination of all who live.