I like that #300 can be an Amalgamation, but maybe I think of numbers too much.

 

Job Chapter 17 – The Amalgamation

My spirit is crushed,

   My days burnt out,

      Only the grave awaits me.

I swear, Am I not surrounded by mockers?

   With their provocations, my eyes dwell without rest.

 

God, accept my pledge with you,

   Who else would take a surety from me?

Since you have hidden understanding from their hearts,

   You will not receive glory from them.

They impress companions with their bounty,

   While their children’s eyes darken without.

 

God has made me a byword (stereotype) among people,

   I have become like Tophet, or old. *

My Eyesight Grows dim from grief,

   My limbs appear like shadows,

The upright are outraged by this,

   The innocent roused against the godless.

Nevertheless, the just will cling to their ways,

   Those with unsoiled hands will become more determined.

And yet, all of you, reply again,

   But I shall find no one wise among you.

 

My days have surpassed my hopes,

   Cutoff from my heart desires.

That would say “Night is day”,

   “The light is near” in the face of darkness.

Indeed, I await my home in Sheol,

   To array my couch in the darkness,

To the pit I call “You are my father”,

   To the worm “Mother”, “Sister”.

Where then is my hope,

   My hope, who can see?

To the chambers of Sheol it descends,

   Together we shall return to dust.

 

*  Tophet was the name of a pagan alter upon which pagans would sacrifice their children by burning them and the tradition was for everyone to spit whenever anyone would slip and say Tophet.