INVICTUS
by
William Ernest Henley (1849–1903)
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.
JE LEEST
The Snake Eaters Daughter
Tienerfictie~Open Novella Contest 2019 ~Long List Selection~ Desdemona Hunter is the kind of girl who has always owned more knives than Barbies. Who can run ten miles over mountainous terrain with a twenty-pound rucksack on her back. She can field strip an AK-4...
