Out of night that will still surround,
Black as a pit, no start, no goal,
I thank what gods may watch unfound
For my rigid, unflinching soul.
In a tight clutch of random luck
I do not turn nor cry aloud.
Through assault, still I will not duck
I am bloody, but I stand proud.
This wrath cannot but push down ways
In which horror looms. But I’m staid
And so risks of oncoming days
Find, and shall find, I’m unafraid.
Of no import if a gap’s strait,
How full of judging doom a scroll,
How tall my climb, how long my wait,
For I am captain of my soul.