Your Poetry Dot Com - Frenemies: A Confession Received At Death's Door

My dearest fellow, patron of my humble heart,
I issue now with haste in situations dire,
That you, sweet soul, should hear my rapturing report,
Before you fetch off for that final flaming fire.

You always thought in mind I treasured not for you
Though then and then again we shared our seconds, sweet,
But now the time is nigh, and I am clearly due
To shower you with where you are in my heart, deep.

I will confess, at first I saw not why nor how
Together we could be a force for any foe
And even once the knowledge, great, dawned on my brow,
A name, I could not find it, still, not high nor low.

In passion's throws, we'd scream, dear God, our horrid hate
But then on blissful days, Elysium looming,
We'd turn our backs on vile violence to date
For serene, sweet nothings in our gardens blooming.

Till here and now from thence I bring to you, post haste,
Secrets to slip like silk through poison remedy
That my presence with one last longing leer be laced
And call you once and forever all my frenemy.

This poem is Copyright © Song_of_Sarah