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.


The instinctive resistance we have to death is one of the few things I believe is common to all men regardless of their creed. Even those who wish for rest and relief still find something infatuating about life, about the living. Sometimes this urge to survive does not square well with my beliefs about the afterlife, because even the Apostle Paul said that it is better to depart (die) and be with the Lord than to go on living. Nonetheless, we cling to life, and ought to cling to it because death never ceases to be our enemy. I do not know Thomas’ beliefs about the afterlife, but we should all share his rebellion against the tyranny of death.