The Name that is no other,
Bestowed upon the Father, the Righteous One.
He rides, with healing in His wings.
On his thigh was a robe and the name on his thigh was a name only the Father knew.
The bare foot of him baring the scars, the hands wounded which He bore for me.
A pathway made for him, as the banner is raised high, A loud trumpet sounds in accordance with the shout of the saints. "Alleluia!
Yet tightly he holds the reins, as the white horse gallops with intent and with one purpose, to establish His Kingdom .
The King has appeared, he is the root of David, the Beloved of the Father, faithful in his promises, The One Great King.
Where is the One that was to return? The question now being answered, Here he is, now riding in triumphant for all eyes to see.
He that is true, his words, his life, his death, his resurrection, his ascension, his return all basking in glory.
"He is The Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of Man, coming down in glory!"
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