From the depths of space came the cry, man had evolved to realise its plight and alone it wept. Long live we soldiers, conscripts to the cause, soldiers of humanity until the cancer calls.
In the face of annihilation we scream out to be heard but silent and superfluous, all cries drown within oceans of oblivion.
To fight?
Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage, rage against the dying of the light...*
Or not? For it is our lot. To fight? Or accept our plight? To be, or not to be? Despite all our might, we are shadows to the night. So breathe, just breathe until tomorrow, then sleep and dream farewell forever. Dust in the wind again, for only in death are we truly free. And within one hundred years, it won't matter.
*'Do not go gentle into that good night', Extract of the poem by Dylan Thomas 1914-53.
MUSINGS
"Do not go gentle into that good night... Rage, rage against the dying of the light." I love these words from the Dylan Thomas poem, but it's much easier to accept fate than it is to fight the inevitable.
MUSIC
Atmosphères, György Ligeti 1961
Do not go gentle into that good night, Dylan Thomas 1951 (video)
REFERENCE LINKS
Do not go gentle into that good night, Dylan Thomas 1951 (poem)
For the Fallen, Laurence Binyon 1914
The Charge of the Light Brigade, Tennyson 1854
Study after Velázquez's Portrait of Pope Innocent X, Francis Bacon 1953
PADE ADDRESS
judas1.com/screaming