Pilgrim's Distress Poem by Hannington Mumo

Her gentle gait is not what it used to be
Nor are her eyes in their earlier sparkles;
And she's often beset by wistful reminiscences
Of her evanescent life's ever-disjointing circles.

Her whitened memory suffers lapse
Inflicted by multiplying unrequited gaps,
Ardent supplications with answers stayed;
Her feeble cries to a deafened heaven said.

Dearest hopes spun to utterly unavailing dust,
Scrupulous piety to inexplicable crime converted:
Saintly desert miscalled Pariah's flight accursed,
And innocent merit mere mimicked loyalty labeled.

Her voice has lost its saintly grace
That trademarked her livelier days,
Her stalwart faith of stone and bread
Is either wholly doubt-dogged or dead.

Her older hopes to eternal death are dashed,
All her former dreams to total oblivion lashed.