The Hurtful Tongue
For the choirmaster. A Psalm of David.
Hear, O God, my voice of complaint;
preserve my life from dread of the enemy.
2 Hide me from the scheming of the wicked,
from the mob of workers of iniquity,
3 who sharpen their tongues like swords
and aim their bitter words like arrows,
4 ambushing the innocent in seclusion,
shooting suddenly, without fear.
5 They hold fast to their evil purpose;
they speak of hiding their snares.
“Who will see them?” they say.
6 They devise injustice and say,
“We have perfected a secret plan.”
For the inner man and the heart are mysterious.
7 But God will shoot them with arrows;
suddenly they will be wounded.
8 They will be made to stumble,
their own tongues turned against them.
All who see will shake their heads.
9 Then all mankind will fear
and proclaim the work of God;
so they will ponder what He has done.
10 Let the righteous rejoice in the LORD
and take refuge in Him;
let all the upright in heart exult.