BSB(i)
25 Would You frighten a windblown leaf? Would You chase after dry chaff?
26 For You record bitter accusations against me and bequeath to me the iniquities of my youth.
27 You put my feet in the stocks and stand watch over all my paths; You set a limit for the soles of my feet.
28 So man wastes away like something rotten, like a moth-eaten garment.