Friendly Blessings
It was a public execution and I was the executor,
I was quitting,
Being the sale out,
But my friends won’t allow me to go quietly,
This is to you,
The calm in every storm,
The hands that raise me when I’m spent,
The backs that shoulder my dead weight,
The time machines reminding me I have come far,
The owls that rasp on my window when witching hour is at peak,
Do not go quietly they repeat,
Do not go quietly!
I will not go quietly into the goodnight
Leave a Reply