Sri Lanka


I come from where the Tigers gnarled
And ripped apart the lion’s heart

And yet we sleep in the dens
Of our own security, knowing no black and white stripe

Can make prisoners of us,
No yellow beast can pounce and shred

Our dreams. And we still have scars
Of where tigers gripped their teeth

Reminding us all, that the past is not far
And the carpets laid in the present

Are only perfected by the rhetoric of spin doctors,
While the common man lingers

In the silence of shadows, when cyanide
Was a locket and a bomb was a vest.

And love was only about a selfish martyrdom
Loathing the frontier-less island

We call our home. We were never lions and tigers
Just felines who forgot how to smile with our whiskers.

And what matters is not the mane or the stripes
But what brings and binds us together

The love of a country, we should rebuild
With the muscle of herculean deeds.

And this land will always be a crucible
Where different elements mix to the metallurgy of one.

To make the perfect alloy, we all know as peace.

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