DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT

                                                                      Do not go gentle into that good night
                                                                      Old age should burn and rave at close of day
                                                                      Rage, rage against the dying of the light

                                                                      Though wise men at their end know dark is right
                                                                      Because their words had forked no lightning they
                                                                      Do not go gentle into that good night.

                                                                      Good men
                                                                      the last wave by
                                                                      crying how bright
                                                                      Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay
                                                                      Rage, rage against the dying of the light

                                                                      Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight
                                                                      And learn
                                                                      too late
                                                                      they grieved it on its way
                                                                      Do not go gentle into that good night

                                                                      Grave men
                                                                      near death
                                                                      who see with blinding sight
                                                                      Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay
                                                                      Rage, rage against the dying of the light

                                                                      And you
                                                                      my father
                                                                      there on the sad height
                                                                      Curse
                                                                      bless me now with your fierce tears
                                                                      I pray
                                                                      Do not go gentle into that good night
                                                                      Rage, rage against the dying of the light

                                                                                    -Dylan Thomas-