Rooted in Hebrews 12:28, the poem celebrates the staggering gift of an eternal, unshakable kingdom that believers are already receiving amid a world that is crumbling. Earthly empires rise in smoke, their crowns and scepters shatter, mountains melt, and graves claim every merely human glory; yet God’s people stand secure on Mount Zion, the city that cannot be moved.

The cross itself becomes the guarantee: the slain Lamb now reigns, His wounds transformed into royal jewels, and every scar a proof that this kingdom is forever “shake-proof.” Because Christ has triumphed over sin and death, His people live in confident hope, wearing an unseen crown and bearing the weight of coming glory even now.

The poem moves from awe-filled reverence (falling before a holy God) to exultant victory (rising to serve the King of Kings with trembling joy). It ends with a final, defiant hallelujah: while hell despairs and death lies crushed, the redeemed lift their voices in worship, tasting already the wine of endless days in the one realm that no power can ever overthrow.

In short, it is a song of majesty, unbreakable hope, and ultimate victory for all who serve the Lamb who was slain—the eternal King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

(Hebrews 12:28)

Therefore, since we are receiving
a kingdom that cannot be shaken—
let us be thankful,
and so worship God acceptably
with reverence and awe.

We stand on ground that will not yield,
while thrones of earth dissolve like mist;
the fires may roar, the mountains slide,
yet here our footing keeps its tryst.
No earthquake moves the city’s wall,
no tempest tears its banners down—
for we have come to Zion’s hill
and wear the Victor’s hidden crown.

The smoke of empires climbs and fades,
their iron scepters snap like reeds;
but mercy built our fortress here
on promises that never bleed.
The Lamb once slain now wears the scars
as royal jewels upon His breast—
and every wound that bought our peace
has made His kingdom shake-proof, blest.

So lift your heads, you blood-bought host,
the night is gone, the dawn is sure;
the trumpet soon will split the sky
and call the heirs to what endures.
With reverence deep and holy fire
we fall, we rise, we kiss the rod—
then stand to serve with trembling joy
the King of Kings, the Lord our God.

Let angels hush, let hell despair,
let death itself lie crushed and still;
we bear the weight of glory now—
a kingdom no grave ever will.
Come, take the cup, come wear the crown,
come taste the wine of endless days—
for we have seen the throne that stands
when every other throne decays.

Hallelujah to the Lamb,
Hallelujah to the King—
forever reigns the unshaken realm
where hope and majesty take wing.
Amen.