For my soul is full of troubles: and my life draweth nigh unto the grave.

Have mercy upon me, O LORD; consider my trouble which I suffer of them that hate me, thou that liftest me up from the gates of death:

Have the gates of death been opened unto thee? or hast thou seen the doors of the shadow of death?

He is chastened also with pain upon his bed, and the multitude of his bones with strong pain: So that his life abhorreth bread, and his soul dainty meat. His flesh is consumed away, that it cannot be seen; and his bones that were not seen stick out. Yea, his soul draweth near unto the grave, and his life to the destroyers.

I said in the cutting off of my days, I shall go to the gates of the grave: I am deprived of the residue of my years.