This poem has perhaps been the most helpful combination of words to get me through hard times. I felt that this blog, aimed towards understanding myself would be incomplete without perhaps the most beautifully relatable poem i’ve come across, and the impact it still continues to have on me.
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What Ernest Henley wrote 127 years ago, still has the same effect on the reader as it it did then.
And perhaps that is the beauty of the written word, it stands unaffected by time. Time, which strives towards the destruction of everything in it’s path to prove it’s majesticity, seems to be rather helpless against the written word.
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“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”
Until Later,
Captain
Explosions in my head 