He is torn from the shelter of his tent and is marched off to the king of terrors.
The hope of the righteous is joy, but the expectations of the wicked will perish.
The wicked man will see and be grieved; he will gnash his teeth and waste away; the desires of the wicked will perish.
My heart pounds within me, and the terrors of death assail me.
For to them, deep darkness is their morning; surely they are friends with the terrors of darkness!
His confidence is fragile; his security is in a spider’s web.
Your enemies will be clothed in shame, and the tent of the wicked will be no more.”
But the eyes of the wicked will fail, and escape will elude them; they will hope for their last breath.”
and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death.
But everyone who hears these words of Mine and does not act on them is like a foolish man who built his house on sand.
“Where, O Death, is your victory? Where, O Death, is your sting?”
The wicked man is thrown down by his own sin, but the righteous man has a refuge even in death.
He looks down on all the haughty; he is king over all the proud.”