Invictus

Out of the night.
I love the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole.
I thank whatever God may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance,
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the blood-churnings of chance,
My head is bloody but unbound.
Beyond this place of rest and tears,
Oh, look—the horror of the shade.
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how straight the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate.
I am the captain of my soul.
Out of the night.
Out of the night.