The Garden

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   poetry written by Lakeisha Lanier   
Tabernacle of Meeting


I come to kneel and pray
Rest seems so far away
I'm hated without cause
They plot my demise
Those that came with me
To be my strength are sleep
And now I ask of thee
Let this cup pass
In this moment of weakness
I find strength in release

If it be your will let this cup pass
Nevertheless not my will
But yours be done
I submit as your son
Here in the garden
I die to my feelings
Here in the garden
I submit completely
Here in the garden
Your will be done

Hence comes my betrayer
I'm greeted with the kiss of death
Seized by the Roman soldiers
The Fathers plan is in full effect
I'm led away like a sheep for the slaughter
But I already died in the garden
Not my will but thine be done
Not my will but thine be done
Here in this garden.


COPYWRITE © 2017  LAKESHA LANIER


Comments

  1. Overseer Elaine CarrierMay 2, 2017 at 6:42 PM

    So true! Not my will but thine will be done. Amen!

    ReplyDelete

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