15 My strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. You lay me in the dust of death. 16 For dogs surround me; a band of evil men encircles me; they have pierced my hands and feet. 17 I can count all my bones; they stare and gloat over me. 18 They divide my garments among them and cast lots for my clothing.

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