(Disclaimer: This short poem has been a source of inspiration to me in times of troubles. It has nothing to do with any martial art but the spirit of the poem speaks for itself; the very core of the warrior spirit. I do not claim any ideas to this work. All of it belongs solely to the author. Enjoy reading!)
by William Ernest Henley
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.
No comments:
Post a Comment