Time

 You tell me death is final night

The end of choosing wrong from right.

I ask what then if God, the One

In whose hands all the sands of time do run,

When no last rites are said, no holding hand

Stands by to wrest the sinner's prayer from dying voice -

What if He breathes upon those last few grains of sand

Provides the space, as needed, for the choice?

Must Purgat'ry at all costs be denied -

Semantics versus Lord of Earth and Sky?

For all those who now face their final night

Shall not the judge of all the world do right?