Tuesday, May 29, 2012


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.

- William Ernest Henley

This poem has always given me goosebumps. Every time I read it. And recently I saw another interpretation of it.


I love the way the poem goes so well with the art. So perfect. And it made me love the poem even more.

What gets me most about this poem is its simplicity. Simple words which communicate so much.
You crouch
And brace yourself
For the impact
Knowing fully well
That it is going to hurt
Very much.

And you close your eyes
Real tight
And you ball your fists

Till the seconds fly by
Till the impact you know is coming

And then...
There is nothing.
You stand up
You're still on the train
And that wall you were supposed to crash into
Doesn't exist

Maybe it did at one point
But it disappeared when you got close

And you look forward
Still on the train
And now you can appreciate the journey even more
Because you know
How close you were to it ending.