When The Last Trumpet Calls Poem by Adams King

We all await the coming of Christ Jesus
I pray I wake from my earthly bed of dust

Men shall be released from death
Glory will one again fill the earth

Dry bones shall someday rise again
And those dead in Christ will love again

For paradise awaits the saints
Men found worthy on the last day

Somewhere above the endless sky
They will be given precious wings to fly

For many great men will fall
When the very last trumpet calls