Inspiration comes from everywhere, you just have to look.

 I have had a part of this poem in my head for a long time. I never knew the name of it or the author. All I had was: do not go gentle into a dying night. Well, it’s not dying light, it’s good night. Well, today I decided to actually look for it and the author. It’s called: Do not go gentle into that good night by Dylan Thomas. For your viewing pleasure. 

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.