הַוָּה

Is there iniquity on my tongue? Can my mouth not discern malice?

They tear up my path; they profit from my destruction, with no one to restrain them.

For not a word they speak can be trusted; destruction lies within them. Their throats are open graves; their tongues practice deceit.

Those who seek my life lay snares; those who wish me harm speak destruction, plotting deceit all day long.

Your tongue devises destruction like a sharpened razor, O worker of deceit.

“Look at the man who did not make God his refuge, but trusted in the abundance of his wealth and strengthened himself by destruction.”

Destruction is within; oppression and deceit never leave the streets.

For the choirmaster. To the tune of “Do Not Destroy.” A Miktam of David, when he fled from Saul into the cave. Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy, for in You my soul takes refuge. In the shadow of Your wings I will take shelter until the danger has passed.

Surely He will deliver you from the snare of the fowler, and from the deadly plague.

Can a corrupt throne be Your ally—one devising mischief by decree?

The LORD does not let the righteous go hungry, but He denies the craving of the wicked.

The righteousness of the upright delivers them, but the faithless are trapped by their own desires.

A wicked man listens to evil lips; a liar gives ear to a destructive tongue.

A foolish son is his father’s ruin, and a quarrelsome wife is like a constant dripping.

Both hands are skilled at evil; the prince and the judge demand a bribe. When the powerful utters his evil desire, they all conspire together.