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Flesh and blood cannot inherit,
Neither being on your merit;
And not inherit what decays,
Being corrupted as it strays.
Not all of us will ever die,
And you may be wondering why;
But in due time we will be changed,
All of this has been prearranged.
For I tell you a mystery,
As part of ancient history;
And will happen in an instant,
In the future not that distant.
It will be in a split second,
A moment or two as reckoned;
At the sound of the last trumpet,
Will cause trembling in the strumpet.
So as the trumpet makes its sound,
Everyone that is around;
Watch as the dead will start to rise,
From their gravesites where each one lies.
They will change to live forever,
Their lives no longer to sever;
For this body must be made new,
Not like the one that they once knew.
No more bodies that are mortal,
You are taken to a portal;
While picked up out of the crowd,
All true believers to the cloud.
Death turned into victory,
No longer contradictory;
For death no longer has a sting,
Opportunities it will bring.
Copyright © 2014 Richard Newton Sherrer
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Flesh and Blood
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