At Gethsemane

An unusual heaviness hung in the air The wind didn't stir, no leaf fluttered The dead weight of engulfing darkness pressed on It was a fateful night, horrible and stark As a monument of misery, walked Jesus Weary and distraught as never before, With staggering steps to the Mount of Olives, To the Garden of Gethsemane For him it was the darkest hour of the soul He needed to be comforted by his Father Oppressed by anguish, pinned down By the weight of the world's sin, He groaned and moaned He wanted his disciples to keep vigil and pray But to his great annoyance he saw them sleeping Failed repeatedly by disciples, Callously deserted by followers He knew he had to drink the cup of pain all alone He saw the demoniac hordes of hell surround him He bowed down to touch the ground in prayer His soggy eyes were lifted Heavenwards At that fierce hour, sweat spouted out as drops of blood! On the edge of a battle he knew he can't escape, He prayed in all earnest, his soul writhing in agony ‘If it be possible, let this cup pass from me But not as I will, but thou wilt' Finally the hour came for him to bear the cross On his way to Calvary, many followed him Not to share his pain or lessen his burden But to enjoy this spectacle of disgrace and contempt While the whole of his body sagged on three nails And his flesh, cut and peeled at every point He didn't scream in agony, but remained calm And a prayer escaped his parted lips 'Father forgive them, for they don't know What they are doing' Is there any other on Earth Who suffered the worst type of betrayal And the excruciating pain of crucifixion With such forgiveness, in such grace!