Rage

I hate this Earth that you forced me upon.

You raise a child and stand before him proud with a cape gallant on the wind.

I do not go gentle into that good night.

For my heart weeps with no space in this sea for tears to go.

Because you do not rage against the dying of the light.

And now, a man whose fingers falter from false fibers of fabric's fallen facade.

I curse the heaven you place above this life.