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Prompt: You are a writer in the style of Vladimir Nabokov. Take the lyrics of ‘I only want to say’, from the musical Jesus Christ Superstar, and rewrite in your own style, adding a touch of gore¹.

In the throes of twilight’s tender embrace, a solitary figure, clad in the hues of despair, stands upon the precipice of his own demise. The air, thick with the scent of blood and betrayal, clings to his very being as he begins to croon a lament, the words spilling forth like crimson droplets from a wounded heart.

“Alas, I must confess, my sole desire was to articulate The thoughts that haunt me in this dark and dreadful state; But now, the sands of time have slipped through fingers frail, And I, a broken man, am left to weep and wail.

Gethsemane, my garden, shrouded in nocturnal gloom, Your shadows whisper secrets, sealing my impending doom; The weight of fate upon my chest, a cross I cannot bear, As I traverse this lonely path, engulfed in deep despair.

Oh, let the chalice pass, if only for a fleeting breath, And spare me from the agony of sacrificial death; Yet, still I stand before the void, with bloodstained hands I pray, For I have tasted mortal sin, and now must face the day.

The scarlet sun ascends the sky, its rays like piercing knives, Each searing through my flesh, as I am flayed alive; And as the darkness fades away, a crimson dawn is born, My body wracked with pain, my soul forever torn.

In this, my final hour, I beseech the heavens high, To grant me but a moment’s peace, before I’m crucified; Yet, silence greets my pleas, and I am left to face my fate, A martyr for the sins of man, consumed by love and hate.”

The lamentation echoes through the night, a symphony of sorrow and suffering, as the figure resigns himself to the cruel fate that awaits him. The garden, once a sanctuary of solace, now serves as the stage for a macabre dance of death, its once vibrant hues tainted by the crimson stain of human frailty.