“ 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. ”
Humans could parrot one another so well-- the words of mortals often fell short. It was rare to behold such passion. His words like waves on the shore-- in the moment they seemed only just, yet the petit male knew better than most how waves could wear down the mightiest mountain.
Just as words could wear the heart.
“Beautiful.” He muttered softly-- reverently. Who was he but another weary soul walking the same battered path-- if only for a moment? Perhaps some company this evening should be welcomed.
The pale figure yet kept his distance-- wary to intrude upon such a private moment. Unless he was the intended audience? The man before him was perceptive and keen of senses.
Emboldened, he took a step closer-- wanting to comfort the battered spirit beside him. To console and offer a safe harbor. For now he elected to remain silent, simply stepping up beside the taller figure-- hoping his presence would at least bring solace.