Psalm 6: If prayers were horses, theists would ride!
Psalms Part 6 of 150
For the Chief Musician; on stringed instruments, upon the eight-stringed lyre. A Psalm by David.
A psalm? All they seem to be are the words of a warmonger set to music as he begs God for protection. Pretty lame.
1 Yahweh, don’t rebuke me in your anger,
neither discipline me in your wrath.
Why shouldn’t you be disciplined? Be a man and take the punishment for your transgressions.
2 Have mercy on me, Yahweh, for I am faint.
You poor man.
Yahweh, heal me, for my bones are troubled.
3 My soul is also in great anguish.
But you, Yahweh—how long?
4 Return, Yahweh. Deliver my soul,
and save me for your loving kindness’ sake.
Why do you think you of all people are so deserving?
5 For in death there is no memory of you.
In Sheol, who shall give you thanks?
6 I am weary with my groaning.
Every night I flood my bed.
Not toilet trained either I see.
I drench my couch with my tears.
That too huh?
7 My eye wastes away because of grief.
It grows old because of all my adversaries.
8 Depart from me, all you workers of iniquity,
for Yahweh has heard the voice of my weeping.
Has? Or you just wish it?
9 Yahweh has heard my supplication.
Yahweh accepts my prayer.
How do you know?
10 May all my enemies be ashamed and dismayed.
They shall turn back, they shall be disgraced suddenly.
And as you are no longer alive, if you ever really were, then he abandoned you too. As with everybody who worships mythical creatures.