The Afflicting Soul

my heart is inditing a good matter
I speak of the things touching the soul
My tongue is the pen of a ready writer

For my soul is bowed
down to the dust
For my belly cleaveth
unto the earth

My heart is not turned back
The shame of my face had covered me
My steps are not declined

Wherefore have I hidden my face and
Forget my affliction and oppression
My soul is cast down within me