Hope through Hurt

Flesh and blood cannot inherit,
Or solely on just your merit;
You must have faith, be purified,
And believe in the crucified.

So I tell you a mystery,
All about our history;
Not all of us will ever die,
Rotting away in where we lie.

But we will be changed to transform,
Awakened by a heavy storm,
When the Shepherd gathers His sheep,
And we will then no longer sleep.

It will happen in an instant,
As a light so pure and brilliant;
While we hear the trumpet sound,
When we will be Heaven bound.

Then the dead will come back to life,
No more experiencing strife;
For as their past they will sever,
Changed so they will live forever.

In this body we disobey,
So the flesh and bones must decay;
A mortal body cannot go,
Where immorality did flow.

We need a body that is pure,
If you want to go through the door;
Your faith will transform on that day,
Worshipping to trust and obey.

Death is turned into victory,
Upon His benedictory;
Blessing us as Christ will bring,
A new life without any sting.

For death will have no victory,
In our valedictory;
Since death will have no sting,
If to the cross is where we cling.