Devictus

Member since 2002 · Posted 22 Nov 2005 · 3 comments

Into the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole I curse whatever gods may be For my unforgivable soul In the fell clutch of circumstance I have both failed and cried aloud Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, and in shame is bowed Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And soon the menace of the years Finds, and shall find me bent and afraid It matters not how great the hate, How charged with punishments the scoll, I am not the master of my fate; I am not the captain of my soul

Rate it

0 is the worst, 10 the best. Pick a number, add a comment if you like, then send it. Keys: 0–9 pick, Enter sends.

mean 5.60 weighted 5.07 rank 6566 views 166 View voting details →

5 votes so far. Yours would make 6.5 votes so far

3 comments

[7] zodiac 22-Nov-05/3:30 AM Reply

You let God beat you. Probably without any exertion on His part.

[7] cyan9 22-Nov-05/7:56 AM Reply

I like the melancholy here, the images of your head being bowed in shame, and the horror of the shade all add to the power and make for colourful language, however all words that you use are relatively simple, and so it reminds me of the Beefeaters at the Tower of London in the UK, who tell children stories of its dark and bloody past. The range and grab of the feelings here are extensive for a dark poem, which usually just try to get the reader to feel sorry for them; I think thats a good thing.

[7] Dovina 22-Nov-05/5:01 PM Reply

Why do you curse the gods for you unforgivableness? Still, it's a haunting lament.