Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

[dethongdacrack]

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 that dark is right,
Because their words have forked no lightning, they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

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

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

Grave men, near death, who see through 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 you now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go genle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.