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My days are past, my plans are broken off, the desires of my hrt.They make night into day;The light; they say is near to the darkness:if i look for sheol as my house, if i spread my couch in darkness, if i say to the pit, you are my father, and to the worm, My mother, or my sister;where then is my hope?who will see my hope? Will it go down to the bars of sheol?shall we descend together into the dust? Job chapter 17 vrs 11
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