For the Chief Musician. On stringed instruments. A contemplation by David.

Listen to my prayer, God. Don’t hide yourself from my supplication. Attend to me, and answer me. I am restless in my complaint, and moan because of the voice of the enemy, because of the oppression of the wicked. For they bring suffering on me. In anger they hold a grudge against me. My heart is severely pained within me. The terrors of death have fallen on me. Fearfulness and trembling have come on me. Horror has overwhelmed me. I said, “Oh that I had wings like a dove! Then I would fly away, and be at rest. Behold, then I would wander far off. I would lodge in the wilderness.” Selah. “I would hurry to a shelter from the stormy wind and storm.”