Contemplations of Death

Contemplation of Death
by Donald C. Brown

I do not go gently into the night
But rage against the dying light.
I do not yield with weakened limbs
Nor bow my head to silenced hymns.
With all my strength I still fight
Against the rapid falling night.
Though some might see Death as gain,
Freed from a body racked with pain,
Yet my cry must always be,
Death has found a foe in me.