Do not go gentle
The days paint all the shades of red and blue,
still fresh as morning dew,
A massive impulse that sheared all dependence
or was it the mere idea of slaked independence?
The tremor of being in sleeves struck hard
howling like a no-moon skyward,
Where the subtle difference between a zero and one mattered,
The budding grey matter, all shattered.
He was but, the part of this very cosmos,
Down all for the chaos,
Perspective fueled all this electricity,
Lifted by the sanctified beats of his audacity.
Though stormed not by envy, but the similitude,
being gentle was too rude,
For wise men knew about the dying light,
He would but, stomp away from the future bright.
For life isn't destined to catch an ordinary kite,
Do not go gentle, into that good night.
still fresh as morning dew,
A massive impulse that sheared all dependence
or was it the mere idea of slaked independence?
The tremor of being in sleeves struck hard
howling like a no-moon skyward,
Where the subtle difference between a zero and one mattered,
The budding grey matter, all shattered.
He was but, the part of this very cosmos,
Down all for the chaos,
Perspective fueled all this electricity,
Lifted by the sanctified beats of his audacity.
Though stormed not by envy, but the similitude,
being gentle was too rude,
For wise men knew about the dying light,
He would but, stomp away from the future bright.
For life isn't destined to catch an ordinary kite,
Do not go gentle, into that good night.
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