Sunday, May 15, 2011


By Kwame Ampofo-Boateng
13 October 2008
Shah Alam, Selangor, MALAYSIA

Out of the struggles of my life
My spirit remains, strong, resolute, steadfast, and brave
As it fights the demons that stifle my efforts
While my dream burns with indefatigable furnace
Giving me incommensurable hope that I will win
Victory will come in the end but probably at a price
In the meantime, I will continue marching on to victory

Even on those days when my life is clouded and confused
With my path to victory blurred and indistinct
With my enemies invisible and camouflaged by the situation
And leaving me battered and dispirited
I am still comforted by the thought of victory
That no matter how long I suffer, how long I am humiliated by life
I know I cannot give up but must persevere

Even in the face of doubts from friends and foes about the efficacy of my struggle
Some offering optimism and others pessimism
With some encouraging me on to victory, while others wished my downfall
I continue to battle on nonetheless like an old soldier
Fighting the enemies within with short, staccato but determined steps
I have thought about packing it in
When I still had the chance of an escape
Before life won and I became vanquished, annihilated, crushed

In my dark moments of trials and tribulations
I have quietly thought about going home
Home, sweet home
To my own land, and to my own people, to endless solace, catharsis
Where the bright and vivacious sight and sound of familiarity will breed comfort
Where the camaraderie of family will usher in resilience and hope
But I refuse to let my enemies triumph in this war of attrition
I continue to march unabated to victory in this battle against life

Saturday, May 14, 2011


A POEM BY WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY (1849-1902) - Gloucester, England, United Kingdom
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 bludgeoning 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