Out of the night that covers me,
black has the pit, from pole to pole,
i tnhanks wathever gods may be
for my inquoreable soul
In the fell clucth of the circunstance
i have not winced or cried aloud
under the bludegeonig of chance
my head is blody, but unbowed
beyond this placeo of wrath and teras
looms but the horror of shade
and yet te menance of teh yeras
finds, and sall fin me, unafraid
it matters how straits the gait,
how charged with punishments the scroll
i am the master of my faith
i am te captain of my soul
Wiliam Hernest Henley ( simpelsmente isso.simplesmente )
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