Wednesday, August 08, 2007


I have always loved poetry. There have been moments in my life, still are, when the only way something can be explained or shared has been through poetry. Oftentimes I have nodded quietly at a poem I've read because the poet has captured what I have felt, or explained, in words and meter, something I have been unable to explain to others even though I felt it deeply within my Self.

With everything that has been changing in my life recently, good and bad, this poem has been popping up for me. It isn't because it speaks so profoundly about the ability to change one's self and to be a better person while being "unconquerable" in the Soul and thus being true to yourself. It is mainly because of the idea of struggle it speaks of before the affirmation of somehow succeeding in life. This is very real and true for me right now. The struggle.

Life, of course is nothing but struggle. In my youth I struggled and fought with anger and determination, never quiet simplicity of action. Now I long to struggle quietly so that the victories I achieve, even if I am the only one who realizes the happening as a victory, are my own. If I can do this, (current) fight and struggle, quietly the only thing people will see will be the results and the change, not the turmoil and hardship of the fight itself. Right now it isn't necessary people know I am struggling, fighting for something I cannot, as yet, explain to anyone else. Why? Because when people see the fight they take it for granted it seems, but when they see the results of the struggle, they are more apt to notice the change to its core rather than merely on the surface.

Another reason I am trying so hard to struggle silently is because this is affecting more than me now and I am changing for myself more than anyone else.

Isn't it odd how this happaens sometimes? More of the internal struggles you seem to hide in order to keep the peace or happiness all around you, even if you yourself are miserable and sharing the misery would really just make you even more miserable? Maybe it isn't everyone, or some people, maybe it is just me. I'm not sure any more. Still, the internal struggle happens and I change.

Luckily I can say I have given up all I can give up except for my very life now. I am whittled down to my core; the deepest, most inner parts of my core at that. Now the healing hopefully will begin and create for me a shell that is stronger and easier to maneuver through life with.

So, here it is. The poem that has been roaming my mind for ages, especially during times of intensity such as these happen to be for me. I give you Invictus.



William Ernest Henley. 1849–1903

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.

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