IRC-Galleria

Out of the night that
covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole
to pole,
I thank whatever gods may
be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of
circumstance
I have not winced nor
cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of
chance
My head is bloody, but
unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath
and tears
Looms but the horror of
the shade,
And yet the menace of the
years
Finds, and shall find me,
unafraid.

It matters not how strait
the gate,
How charged with
punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my
fate;
I am the captain of my
soul.

"Invictus"
William Ernest Henley