The last trumpet

Let a trumpet
drops and fall off its set
in heaven, where angels
sing light n' night jingling bells

I'll be one of every human
acting priggish with my precious prosperity plan
like Smiggle in the Chronicle of the Lord of the Ring
we'll drop the golden ring and begin pretence to sing
for forgiveness of sins with fears satisfying our stomach
when a loud trumpet sounds eyes don't look down but up without a rack

Not to check where the trumpets be
But because it's natural for everything that be
to become not to be
All of us be hypocritical to be
just at certain points [in our lives] to be to me.