In the service to the maker, the Monarch stands
The procession moves forward, in majestic pace
Each step alive, the moment is a new beginning
We have each our own path to walk, life embrace
Bones of the lost remain, remnants of lives gone
On the path life is forgotten, now laying in fields
The lost lay covered by shrouds, white sheer lace
The Monarch in the realms of dead is powerful
He rules over gray lands, but bows before the One
Who is beginning and end of all things, worthy
Life itself is a vast mystery, a gift, an enigma
Only the One who possesses enormous power
Can create worlds, beings, heavens and realms
All bearing the signature of a divine being
We shall soon recognize the coming hour
Being called home, an accounting of honor
Reflecting upon the perception of time
All of our visions of any sort of future end
Time will no longer be kept counting
We'll be fulfilled, after finding purpose
Living our lives with grace and hope
When we've transcended flesh and time
Learning purpose, reason by experience
Living our one chance, in time, in existence
We will truly find our tremendous victory
Having survived the path and journey
We will stand before the One, Maker, King
Our labors, purpose and worth stand well
Called worthy of our calling and honor
By the maker of all honor and worth
