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.