Maybe it's the slow grind of despair, the death of hopes and dreams.
Many are they who rise up against me.
2 Many are they who say of me,
“There is no help for him in God.”
My glory and the One who lifts up my head.
4 I cried to the Lord with my voice,
And He heard me from His holy hill.
I awoke, for the Lord sustained me.
Who have set themselves against me all around.
Save me, O my God!
For You have struck all my enemies on the cheekbone;
You have broken the teeth of the ungodly.
Your blessing is upon Your people.