Friendly Foes Poem by Farinola Augustine

At the onset, we were friends,
As at now, we are foes,
With time, our clothes turn to thorns,
Our cheers to tears.

Behold, stains on my white garment,
Decays on my earthen shoes,
Slowly was I being led to the pit’s edge,
To be pulled down by the wind of time.

Like a harlots stained lips,
Your words turn sage insane,
Receiving poisons as love,
Making my horse to go wild.

At the onset, we were friends
As at now, we are foes,
With time, our cares turn to curse,
Our cheers to tears.