The seraphic ambience.

Curse flees,
Glory invades,
Hues it white,
The ball so bright,
Cadavers rise,
Praises the Lord,
Discards them thoughts,
Broken and distort,
Slumber approaches,
Lulls them to sleep,
Shallow fellows,
With frail beliefs,
Whilst the pious sings,
The holy psalms,
Ecstasy takes over,
Sprinkling charms,
Enlightens the soul,
Fills the dark holes,
He then grants the ones,
Thorns and guns,
Ignorant who were,
Drinking worldly life's rum,
And honours the ones,
With heavens they yearn,
Loyal and faithful,
Who have been to Him,
They'll now carry,
A wide grin.