I wrote this villanelle already this morning because I am going on a day trip today. Off-prompt for NaPoWriMo today, but a response to previous prompts: it is a villanelle, in response to another poem, in this case Dylan Thomas’s “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night.”

In death there is no dying of the light,
It only goes off to another place,
It leaves the rest of us to stay and fight. 

Though we think light is dead when out of sight,
It leaves this Earth to go and see God's face,
In death there is no dying of the light.

It rises from a soul that's blessed, contrite:
The light returns to God's loving embrace;
It leaves the rest of us to stay and fight.

The light within oneself retains its might,
Although it goes on at a different pace,
In death there is no dying of the light. 

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,*
When death comes it can sometimes hope efface:
It leaves the rest of us to stay and fight. 

After the dying does receive last rites,
With other loved ones, fingers interlace --
Behooves the rest of us to stay and fight:
In death there is no dying of the light. 

*I stole this line from Dylan Thomas’s poem.