My own death

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.
Dylan Thomas (1914 – 1953)

I do not retire. I do not submit.
They sentence me, the doctors do,
To death by cruel disease, tis true.
But I do not surrender, it would not fit
Life that’s been colored by every shade and hue.

Inevitable, inexorable, a universal fate
I hear all the platitudes expressed.
But what a sin, discard this gift; berate
The miracle bestowed.

I stand before you, vocal witness, defiant…
A man battered but not compliant.
I will wring out every drop of sanguinous life,
And declare with final acts…I lived, I loved, I am remembered.

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