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protoomega 
"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 or cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloodied-but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears,
Looms but the horror of the shade.
And yet, the terror 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 mast...
Jul 01 2012 08:16 PM
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