Pictures Assembled From Memory

That night was thoroughly dark, 
the garden was quiet when he and the eleven men arrived, 
they were tired, 
He, the leader, was in great distress, 
he addressed them, saying, 

"I feel bad enough to die rigth now." 

Then, three, with HIm went a little further with him, 
remarking to themselves about how distressed he was.

"Wait and pray, the hour is dark and evil is all around us." 

He fell to his knees, then face down into the ground, 
praying to God he said, 

"Father, your will, not mine be done..." 

His distress was increasing and their understanding was decreasing, this time, now, was the time to sow the seeds of doubt and despair...

"Let me introduce myself...." 

"Do you really believe?...Where is your God now?...Have you considered the cost of all this?...This burden is much to heavy...Never..." 

Again, His desperation rising, He Prayed..."Your will be done, in you I trust..." 

The darkness became even more profound and deep, 
rising He went to his freinds, 
He went to his freinds, 
He found them asleep, 
they had no answer.

Then, knowing the time had was at hand,
willingly accepted his fate, 
they all abadoned him and fled.

The night closed in on all of them. 

T.S. Deary 
12/23 - 2/24