Litteratura, from silmaril via juuro

[unixronin]

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.

silmaril requested:  "When you see this, post a bit of poetry in your own journal."