This is a poem about the on-going civil war in Sri Lanka.
The monster is trapped in his lair.
Each wants his pound of flesh.
Grinning faces crossing over.
Hack writers gloat and swear.
The philosophy of peace is put on hold.
Compassion can wait for better times.
Let us rejoice now and drink and feast.
Let us cheer and reward the bold.
Will there be a place for the races to meet?
Who cares now that the deed is done,
When we are united under a single flag,
And the ground trembles beneath our feet.
While blasting bombs crash all day,
The Sacred Tree sheds its leaves,
Racked by the pain of those beneath,
It ends its days in dark dismay.