In the garden, His soul is sorrowful to death.
Bloody tears and sweat mingled with every breath.
He falls on His face and beseeches the Father,
Asking that the cup might go no farther.

My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will but as You will.

That night, Peter, James, and John He brought,
Instead of temptation, it was sleep they fought.
The spirit was willing yet the flesh was weak – so unlike Him who prayed.
And as He finishes – into the hands of sinners, the Son of Man is betrayed.