Pertinacity Poem by Hannington Mumo

Your love is not one of my scanty deserts,
Since a growing wedge of physical distance
Continually casts rising walls and ramparts,
To keep us in lasting apartness unbearable.

Time is the other killer of this impossible love.
This cruel titan our fledgling affections shove
Into impracticability, and it's evil scythes smile
As green dial's bulwark parts us by a new mile.

Fly your fastest, you limbs of olden clock,
Maim even the hardiest traces of this love;
Strike with the illest spite against this pair's
Tender throbs, snuff out their delicate dove.

With opposition true causes steadfast grow,
And extremest malice is but blight to the foe.
Time's ill and scarcity of means will succumb,
When steady loving and passion at last come.

By persistence even rocks by ropes get sliced,
And covetous Time's plots remain misadvised.