My body is clothed with worms and dirty scabs; my skin is broken and festering.

If I cry to corruption, ‘You are my father,’ and to the worm, ‘My Mother,’ or ‘My sister,’

Together they lie down in the dust, and worms cover over them both.

how much less a mortal man, who is but a maggot – a son of man, who is only a worm!”

The womb forgets him, the worm feasts on him, no longer will he be remembered. Like a tree, wickedness will be broken down.

Your splendor has been brought down to Sheol, as well as the sound of your stringed instruments. You lie on a bed of maggots, with a blanket of worms over you.

So they put it aside until the morning, just as Moses had commanded, and it did not stink, nor were there any worms in it.