Smiggles
Smiggles
 
 
Wa-ching
That's the sound of the sword going in
Clack-clack, clack-a-clang clang
That's the sound of the gun going bang-bang
Tukka-tuk, tuk, tuk, tuk-tukka
That's the sound of the drone button pusher
Зараз у мережі
Вітрина творчих робіт
INVICTUS
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.
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