PSALMS.
Chapter 64.
For the music director. A psalm of David. God, please listen to my complaint. Protect me because my enemies scare me. 
Shelter me from the plots of the wicked, from this evil mob. 
What they say cuts like swords; they fire off poisonous words like arrows. 
They shoot from their hiding places at innocent people—doing this without warning, not afraid of being caught. 
They encourage one another to do evil, planning how to secretly trap people, telling themselves, “Nobody will notice.” 
They plot wicked things. “What a great plan we've created!” they say. There are no limits to the depths to which human minds and thoughts can sink. 
But God will shoot them with arrows; all of a sudden they will be wounded. 
What they themselves say will trip them up; people who see them will mock them, shaking their heads at them. 
Then everyone will be frightened. They will say that this is the work of God, and they will think about what he has done. 
Those who are right with the Lord will be happy in him, they will go to him for protection. Those who live right will praise him. 
