Damn and blast it, he was right:
I'm with the kid;
I'll not go gentle
into his good night.
No, when they come to close the day
I'll burn and rave, be downright rude
at any proffered platitude,
and not accept the death of light.
Who is it says that night is right?
that dark must always
throughout life's length and breadth and height?
Who is it says, no matter what
life throws at us
we make no fuss;
accept it all with undue grace?
No, when the light is fading fast
I'll kick and scream,
harangue and curse my useless god -
and find the fear of Him at last.
Except... solicitude (just that)
for friends and family around
might force a smile, allow no sound -
and keep the bottled rage within.
But then again,
I'm still not sure
another light wont break upon
a darker and more distant shore...