my version of the oath from the dead poet’s society

I fell my guards because I dreamed of flying off, to imagine dearly ‘fore hardship, and to know if I could truly sprout wings as a babe wishes to speak and a brook wishes to walk, and not, when I gasp from my sleep, sob of dying chances. I may fret my time lost, shriveled into dry fruit, but bitter to the taste; though I may grasp the knowledge of future, my past forgiven as if nothing. I desire to roam free, to gaze at the stars if I so please, to laugh so rich and capable as to cut through paper with my mere words, to write with all of my power, and cut flesh with my pen. So I urge you, friends. ‘Carpe diem’ may leave you thrilled, but ‘primum tibi quiescere necesse est ante diem’ is true. For we shall live forever, so you may sleep after dusk.