Invictus

Invictus
By William Ernest Henley

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

In the full clutch of circumstance
I have not winced or 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.