At the last trumpet
The walls of the world crumble,
Dark smoke is blown away,
Storm clouds break as rainbows,
Rivers of cleansing waters, cool the fires.
We shall be changed,
Ashen flesh exchanged
For veils of light,
The blood of our sickness
Healed in silver fountains,
So the heaviness of flawed mortality
Falls, as like captives released
We are made free
As You lift us, Lord, to You, as the trumpet sounds.