The Time

BY DR. AGONSON

The time is passing now,
and no one holds my hand.
I pray I will not bow;
I pray that I may stand.

The chimes the hour call.
I count the dreaded toll.
No longer may I stall.
The thing will be made whole.

The day at last has come
when things rise to a head.
Hear not the beating drum?
Know not what has been said?

And in this moment, I,
who scarce can feel the cold,
now shiver as I try
to make my tongue be bold.