Dilantha Gunawardana
Paradise Regained? - Poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
Could I tell you there were roads paved of blood
Leading south……….
As the wind howled at the slaughter of life
Could I tell you there were rampages
And genocides in the call of freedom
Of logs of flesh floating downwind
And sinking to anonymity
Could I tell you there were monsoons of bullets
Falling from over yonder
Could I tell you that a land of no partitions - of color or creed
Was polluted by invisible stripes
And ominous whiskers
Could I tell you there was Yama’s shadow
Behind the aura of chameleons
Could I tell you that there were quadriplegics
Searching for a shift of one inch
Could I tell you there were kites with threads
Yet no feet to run with
Could I tell you there were miniature coffins
And unnamed tombstones
In the heartland of kings and queens
Could I tell you there were tooth brushes
With radiating cobwebs
Could I tell you there were whole night vigils
Under planks of bed timber
Could I tell you there were tears percolating
In front of a lonely mirror
And on the empty side of a bed
Could I tell you………
There were wombs and tombs
Side by side
In a world absent of to-be fathers
Could I tell you no citizen could sleep a wink
Oblivious to the world around
Could I tell you that one fragmented motherland was worth
Than a generation of youth
Could I tell you that armchair cartographers
Were mightier than peace-brokers
Could I tell you of the crimson tide of enmity
And the soot-black clouds of agony
Could I tell you that kismet diluted
As hostility concentrated
Could I tell you that the bullet was mightier
Than the pen or the ballot
Could I tell you we woke up to sirens
And slept with a rosary underneath our pillows
Could I tell you that cold frosted hearts
Were plastered by the cement of apathy
Could I tell you a nation lost her heartbeat
For a whole 26 years
Could I tell you Eden was lost
And a makeshift paradise regained
Could I tell you history can never be erased
Or legacies forever forgotten
Can I tell you we need to gaze at each other
Through windows of empathy
And pummel all fossils of memory
With the head of a sledge hammer
Can I tell you there is no genie or god
Just 22 million consciences
Waiting to forgive - each other………..
Topic(s) of this poem: war and peace
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