In the quiet of the night, a whisper calls,Through the darkened halls of time’s embrace,Echoes of a poet’s voice, where silence falls,A dance of words that life cannot erase.Rage, rage against the dying of the light,He cried with fervor, his spirit bold,Against the night, he stood in fight,With verses woven in passion’s gold.Beneath the stars, his legacy lay,In every line, a heartbeat’s trace,Through every stanza, a timeless play,Of life and death’s eternal race.So let us remember, in shadows cast,The beauty of words that never fade,In Dylan’s world, where moments last,And dreams in ink are gently laid.