“Vincēbar” – Inverting Invictus

A rebuttal of William Ernest Henley’s famous and Godless poem, “Invictus” (Latin: “unconquerable”).

“VINCĒBAR”
(Latin: “Being Conquered”)

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 brought me near;
Through horror He my ransom paid,
That now in me He finds revere
And by His grace makes unafraid.

He brought 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.

For context, the poem “Invictus” by William Ernest Henley can be viewed HERE.

“The Gate of the Year”

I said to a man who stood at the gate of the year, “Give me light that I may tread safely into the unknown”; and he replied, “Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than the known way.”

– Minnie Louise Haskins

Faith has the clearest vision.

You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it.
Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me.
If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,”
even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day,
for darkness is as light with you.
Psalm 139:7-12

“There Is A Door” – A Poem

There is a Door,

Whose thresholds are countless to cross
Whose Mystery dwells in my dross
Whose rooms I have yet to all see
Who by each new entrance makes free

This Door is the blest Son of Man
Forever unfolding His plan
With each day a whisper in ear
That crossing, I might be drawn near

There is no door other than He
Whose entrance by which one might see
His heavenly holiness shine
Here on earth as where all is divine

There is such a Door to be found
Every day His still voice does resound
Let us hear, for that Spirit does speak
To the lowly and unto the meek

Make your entrances while it is day
That at night you may not slip away
For He shuts and He closes at will
And the seats at His table do fill

O come to the Door and make haste
For His thresholds are just a foretaste
Of the glory which He shall make known
Through the ones within whom He’s now shown

Behold the Door, He is our sight
And an ark filled with children of Light
That the flood of His vengeance be passing
And renewed shall be Day everlasting

– Brendan