Jesus left the upper room and went as usual to the mount,

The disciples followed close behind beneath the olive boughs.

He warned them there to pray lest temptation take its hold,

Then withdrew about a stone's cast into night and cold.

He knelt in prayer before the Father as the trial drew near,

Desire for any other cup met obedience through fear.

His will yielded to the Father's; heaven did not remove the road,

But an angel came to strengthen Him beneath the crushing load.

This is the hour of darkness,

Olive shadows, swords, and sleep.

This is the hour of darkness,

Agony running deep.

The disciples close their eyes in sorrow,

Judas comes beneath the trees.

Yet even in the arresting violence,

Mercy reaches one more need.

Being in an agony, He prayed more earnestly,

And sweat fell down like great drops of blood upon the ground.

He rose and found the others sleeping under sorrow's weight,

Asked why sleep had overtaken those who needed prayer awake.

Then a multitude approached, with Judas moving at the head,

The sign of friendship twisted toward betrayal instead.

A kiss became the signal, and the night broke into steel,

One disciple struck the servant, but the wounded ear was healed.

Swords and staves surrounded Him

As though they hunted down a thief.

Day by day He'd taught among them,

Yet no hand had seized Him there.

Now darkness had its hour,

And the powers pressed their claim,

But the One they came to capture

Still stopped violence in His name.

This is the hour of darkness,

Olive shadows, swords, and sleep.

This is the hour of darkness,

Agony running deep.

The prayer did not erase the road,

The kiss did not disguise.

They took Him from the garden,

And the darkest hour arrived.