Shipwreck Poem by Hannington Mumo

It's doubtless irked, that shifty mover of destinies;
For it scarcely yields even with most fervent efforts
To embellish a luckless star with shrinking pennies,
Attempts to morph into the ranks of notable men.

What spiteful gusts cause to often fail
This lone voyager's most steadied sail?
Which elusive charm so full of ill fortune
Combats this sailor to fat chance immune?

Every disheartening news of less sense triumphed
Renders sadder the odds of an already-slowed glide;
And even as flows this yet dark streak of murky trail
Duller prospects emerge interwoven in every tide.

May whatever star that my moving leads
Alter to wider strides and swifter speeds,
Till each of the instreaming reports lastly bears out
That vice and spite labor and desert no longer rout.

For I scarcely can well understand why
Truth succumbs to the dark guise of lie.