The trumpets flare with molten golden cries,
Their fanfare splits the velvet dusk apart,
Where banners blaze with hues of molten dawn,
Proclaiming Christ, enthroned in heaven’s heart.

His crown ignites—a wildfire laced with stars,
His scepter carves through storms with blazing light,
The oceans roar, their waves like sapphire swords,
A symphony of thunder shakes the night.

The cherubim, with eyes of diamond flame,
In torrents sing till galaxies resound,
The seraphim, their wings a scarlet blaze,
Cast halos down where mortal kings are crowned.

Eternal King, Your glory gilds the skies,
A hymn that paints the soul with paradise.

No fleeting cheers from man’s frail lips they crave,
Whose praise, a whim, dissolves in scornful air,
They march as kings through time’s unyielding wave,
Their souls ablaze with valor none can share.
The crowd’s acclaim, a brittle, broken reed,
Falls mute before their unrelenting stride,
Yet heaven thunders, hailing every deed,
A chorus vast where conquerors abide.
Through shadows cast by earth’s unseeing throng,
They wield a power mortal eyes deny,
Till golden gates resound with victory’s song,
And stars themselves their glorious names cry.
Let man’s weak shouts in fickle dust be hurled—
They reign supreme, the heroes of God’s world.