Monday, October 22, 2012


-Louis Untermeyer-

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.

      A very stirring poem, the depiction of the ideal fighter. How hard life may hit you , how condemned you are, how shunned you are. Stand tall, unfazed, shoulders squared, determined. It is yourself who'll walk yourself to the light someday, and the judgment shall be passed on yourself. Never let the world dilute you in all its seeming wonders.

      No, I'm not that. I'm frail, weak. Those are what people may see me as. But I'm not. These words are just whispers from the lost and helpless - Me. Allah help me be strong. Amin.

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