The Leiry Loop

Hush Into The Dying Of the Light

Gone are the good nights for the dead left spite—
the foolish men and tortured martyrs;
please—hush into the dying of the light.

Witness the wild and the grave pass us by
with rage as weapon and torches on fire—
they are to fail and eventually die.

But alas, though wise men need their sight
to stir the rubble and start a war they
still do not go silent into the night.

The good nights are gone and lost to fables,
and the clever will know better than move
in between the crossfire and the chaos.

Whisper into the setting of the sun;
cats that prowl and stalk beneath the shadows
outlive the dogs after the day is done.

Gone are the good nights for the dead left spite,
and all but the calmest will perish so
please—hush into the dying of the light.

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This is a response to Dylan Thomas' Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night