Job.
Chapter 18.
Then Bildad the Shuhite spoke up and said, 
“How long will you go on talking, hunting for the right words to say? Talk sense if you want us to reply! 
Do you think we're dumb animals? Do we look stupid to you? 
You tear yourself apart with your anger. Do you think the earth has to be abandoned, or the mountains moved, just because of you? 
It's certain that the life of the wicked will end like a lamp that is snuffed out—their flame will shine no more. 
The light in their home goes out, the lamp hanging above is extinguished. 
Instead of taking strong strides they stumble, and their own plans cause them to fall. 
Their own feet trip them up and they are caught in a net; as they walk along they fall into a pit. 
A trap grabs them by the heel; a snare tightens around them. 
A noose is hidden on the ground for them; a rope is stretched across the path to trip them. 
Terrors scare the wicked, coming at them from every side, chasing them, biting at their heels. 
Hunger robs them of strength; disaster waits for them when they fall. 
Disease devours their skin; deadly disease consumes their limbs. 
They are torn from the homes they trusted in and taken to the king of terrors. 
People they don't know will live in their homes; sulfur will be scattered where they used to live. 
They wither away, roots below and branches above; 
the memory of them fades from the earth; nobody remembers their names any more. 
They are thrown out of light into darkness, driven from the world. 
They have no children or descendants among their people, and no survivors where they used to live. 
People of the west are appalled at what happens to them. People of the east are shocked. 
This is what happens to the homes of the wicked, to the places of those who reject God.” 
