Mourning the Night til’ Morning

Disclosure: The last line of my poem is from Dylan Thomas’s “Do not go gentle into that good night”.

You can read it here:

It happens to be one of my favorite poems and served as inspiration for my work.

I have also incorporated homophones to give the poem a different feel from being heard as opposed to being read. I hope you enjoy it and always, thank you for taking the time to read!

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The repetitious nature

of everyday life

starts to faze me.

I hope it's just a phase.

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With means to pass on by,

I struggle to find a reason

to endure another season

of paying bills that feel like fines.

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Where is my holy guild

to help me wholly chill,

to live guilt-free as I build purpose,

for my soul's peace of mind?

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Slowly but surely,

I'm losing the will to grind,

watching the clock unwind,

feeling the weight of this tax levy

designed seemingly to just breathe.

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How can others not see

we're all tearing at the seams,

our life levees breach

from stress and anxiety, not the sea?

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Or maybe I need a break,

to pump the brakes,

to ponder whether

this storm and weather

truly aim to cast me aside.

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Yes, perhaps it's all in my head,

this fear of losing my homestead,

paying interest on loans just to live,

existing as the antithesis

between the occult and the rational.

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Regardless, I urge you to forever stay afraid.

Be open and welcome to change.

To be stationary is cause for alarm,

because one day, the sea might rise,

and the poetic nature of water will lose its charm,

so heed my call, stay armed my friends,

with any and all, stationery supplies.

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The world will need knights who

Do not go gentle into that good night.