As I sit and ponder
     I hold in my hand a pen
And I realize someday
     there'll be no ink within
This pen is like my body
     the ink is like by blood
Someday it will all dry up
     and I'll return to mud

But just as in my own hand
     this pen can be used for good
May my life be guided by my Father's hand
     to do whatever he would
May every last drop of blood in me
     be used to give my Father Glory
And when my breaths have all been breathed
     may I breathe in my Father's mercy
Yes when my breaths have all run out
     May I then hear the Arch Angel's shout -

Rise up you saints - rise into the air!
Rise up, rise up and behold the One so Fair!
Your Hope Eternal - the One that for you cares!
Rise up now to meet him in the air!