For some reason, I am contemplating over the life of Nelson Mandela today – a man who lived and led by example. And the poem that kept his spirit aflame in his miserable times in a prison for 18 years with the floor as his bed and a bucket as his loo weighs heavily on me now.

One question that nags me constantly is : what would I do if I knew I would live only for a year or two? Would I make my days count or... just count the days? On second thoughts, isn’t the death of humanity more terrifying a thought than our own deaths? What if I was one of them causing the death - of that of humanity?

For now, just read the poem carefully – word by word and grasp its beauty..


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

2 Responses
  1. A Thought for the Day!:)

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