The Friend A Foe
Barren, barren soul still cry;
Oh! All futile under the sky.
Cobra still you call me why?
Let me shed tears and sigh.
Bitter sweet and sour my past;
And beneath the tree I rest.
Leaves withered and no birds seen;
Thoughts vagrant and all alone.
Summer hot and pith his gone;
When we saw a brook so nigh.
And my thirst oh! Water quenched;
Red wine in my vein he drank.
I gave him blood my only wealth;
And hard my shoulder was his bed.
And turn his proved what fatal bite;
Gone in my soul so deep his fangs.
No foe could stand before my might;
For folk avowed his venom high.
And ere he drink all morn murmured;
‘Sweet your blood’ in unknown tongue.
Oh! His eyes what red that day;
When he saw the queen folly.
And fallen he her love venom;
Alas! Soul mine said ‘dead you are’.
Wrath her armour and a sword;
Soon appeared in black his soul.
Anon my cobra foe became;
And in my vein venom he filled.
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(In this poem the poet calls his friend ‘’cobra’’(a treacherous friend). Poet gives every thing to cobra and at last he kills the poet. After death poet’s soul rests under a tree where the cobra comes again and asks him to be his friend. Then the soul sings a song.)