BY DR. AGONSON
What dreams remain to me?
What visions do I see?
Within this cloudy veil
no sight my hopes avail.
Lost in a fog of lies
amid a thousand cries
the voice of reason dies.
And now that nothing’s left
and all the world’s bereft—
The sun! I see the sun.
And what are shadows worth
within the new day’s birth?
The truth I finally know.
Should I more sing my woe
when here, the light, it grows?
“What dreams remain?” says I,
“or visions blind my eye?”
From out this cloudy veil,
I now do boldly sail.
Tale Told 