Garden of Gethsemane
A solemn occasion,
Passover at Jerusalem,
Jesus and His disciples twelve,
Partaking of annual repast.
No one knew except the Christ,
What must befall the Son of Man,
Filled with bravado, pomp and show,
Simon Peter and the rest.
Jesus Christ predicted His death,
Peter’s denials He also revealed,
But none would believe Him,
No, not one.
Man of Sorrows brought His friends,
Simon Peter, James and John,
To the Garden of Gethsemane,
Praying for God’s will to be done.
Will that cup of suffering be passed by,
Nevertheless, not as He will but as God has willed,
‘Til sweat of clear turned crimson blood,
Alas, what has happened to the three?
Fast asleep and not keeping watch.
But the hour has arrived,
The multitudes came with Judas in front,
Friend turned betrayer kissed the Lord,
Sentries seized Him with spears and swords.
No one remained after the mayhem,
All had fled,
All had left.
Son of Man was put to death,
Alone, reviled and without a friend,
Was this to be a hopeless end?
Hopeless end turned endless hope,
The Son of God rose from dead,
Seating in glory, right of His Father,
King of kings, Lord of lords,
King Messiah to His people!