A parody in disdain of William Ernest Henley’s famous and Godless poem, “Invictus”:
Into the night that covered me,
Black as the pit which held me whole,
He became sin that He might be
The conqueror of my soul.
From blinding clutch of Satan’s bands,
I heard His voice and cried aloud,
Then saw His blood on my own hands;
His face was marred, His head thorn-crowned.
Beyond the veil, He draws me near;
Through horror He my ransom paid,
That now in me He finds revere
And by His grace makes unafraid.
He leads me through the straitest gate,
He purged of punishments the scroll.
He is the Master of my fate,
He is the Captain of my soul.