Unused Churches, may have new job,
Where from New Christians, life they rob,
Martyrs, many, for seven years,
Like cloud-burst rain, pain-filled tears.
By Arley Steinhour 121512
From the grave, let them rise,
Trumpet calls them to the skies,
Evermore to be with God,
Nevermore the Iron Rod.
With joy in heart, hear Trumpet call,
Voice of Angel, calls one and all,
Lightness of heart, and body too,
Heralds, mortal life for us is through.
Never more, sickness, nor pain,
The coolest thing is falling rain,
With joy in heart, we look around,
We're miles and miles, above the ground.
A tunnel seems to guide the way,
Smooth and silky, lit like day,
Soft, warm, breeze, brings tear to eye,
Tears of Joy, can't see to fly.
Yet, every soul, flies free and clear,
Sounds of praise does fill the ear,
Joy grows stronger, as we fly,
Heart overflowing, never more to die.
Angels now, create a new song,
We'll know it all before too long,
The song that only Saved Souls sing,
The song is part of the Wedding ring.
At Bema Alter, prepared to Dine,
On Matzoth bread, and Blood red wine,
We, as part of Bride to the Son,
Christian Souls together, forever One.
To be a part of this honored flight,
Offer your heart, to Jesus tonight,
Repent your Sin, and plead Redemption,
He will forgive, for Eternal Completion.