Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

This is the magical and mysterious NaturesKid! Haha, okay maybe not so mysterious and probably not in any way magical *sobs hysterically into my pillow*.

I enjoy reading FanFiction and discovering the darker aspects of human nature. I will try to get a fic out there, but at the moment my attempts have been fruitless and in vain.

I am an A student in English so if anyone wants any help with beta-ing I would gladly help; I am also excellent at spotting plot holes. I would gladly work on a collaboration piece with someone.

Ten little Death Eaters were merry and fine.

One saw the Emperor's true exterior and that made nine.

A dash of green affirms my little rhyme.

The heavy thud of a falling body muffles the clock's chime.

Nine little Death Eaters are somewhat overweight.

One tried to lose some, gave me His file and that made eight.

Eight little Death Eaters thought they were in heaven

One failed to follow His directives and that made seven

Seven little Death Eaters went for the easy fix

One fell for His 'kissing a Mudblood' act and that made six

Six little Death Eaters felt trapped in His hive

One escaped by cooking His snake and that made five

Five little Death Eaters were feeling rather sour

One crucio-ed his master by mistake and that made four

Four little Death Eaters cast unconscious are thee

One caught pneumonia on the cold wet ground and that made three

Three little Death Eaters shocked from hearing boo

One got punished for his father's errors and that made two

Two little Death Eaters sharing their friendship's fun

One was master to the dark lord's wand and that made one

One little Death Eater in all his pale, blond glory

Will never die

I do not lie

His posh cane lives on in victory.