Storms come to us all, one way or another. Some are stronger than others, mere showers. Others are squalls so fearsome that we lose all sight.
They shred our sails, break our rudders, wash our crew overboard and fill our hull with long gashes.
We take in water, in danger of sinking, naught but a lonely captain lashed to the wheel.
They throw us upon alien reefs, where we have no map to guide us, and the fog that surrounds us is so thick we cannot see the sun rise.
But, we tarry on. We must, or else rot there on the reef.
We get in the lifeboat and row, to wherever we may find dry land. INVICTUS
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.
-William Ernest Henley
This post was edited on 1/30 at 4:55 am