Psalm 42:3

I am weary with my sighing; Every night I make my bed swim, I flood my couch with my tears.

O my God, I call by day, but You do not answer; And by night, but I have no rest.

As a shattering of my bones, my adversaries reproach me, While they say to me all day long, “Where is your God?”

You have fed them with the bread of tears, And You have made them to drink tears in large measure.

For I have eaten ashes like bread And mixed my drinks with weeping

Why should the nations say, “Where, now, is their God?”

“Arise, cry aloud in the night At the head of the night watches; Pour out your heart like water Before the presence of the Lord; Lift up your hands to Him For the life of your infants Who are faint because of hunger At the head of every street.”

“I will assemble those who grieve about the appointed feasts— They were from you, O Zion; The reproach of exile is a burden on them.