1 Corinthians 15:55 (ESV) “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?”

O death, where is thy victory?

O grave, where is thy sting?

Thinkest thou the thought of fools,

Of pow’r o’er everything?

This man for one though mortal be,

Shall not by fear be swayed.

To flee thy cold unyielding hand

Which makes the world afraid.

For One has gone before me now,

He’s plumbed your icy pit.

And rose from out with triumph’s shout,

Life’s candle spark re-lit.

Come now thou dupe of evil’s mind,

Stretch forth your numbing hand.

Unnumbered hordes of demon ranks,

Cannot my Lord withstand.

Sing your final ghoulish song,

Chant your hellish phrases,

And even in those closing hours,

I’ll hear nought, but His praises.

For you O death, can only serve,

To free me from this shell.

And grave, to let this body rest,

You’ll serve me very well.

O death, where is thy victory?

O grave, where is thy sting?

For when your dual works complete,

You’ve but brought me to my King!