08/04/2024
08th of April 2024
In shadows profound, the world anticipates its destiny,
As murmurs develop of an inauspicious date.
April eighth, the harbinger of destruction,
Where skies might break and blossoms consume.
The shudder earth, peacefully, cringes,
As premonitions brew in haziest hours.
Assuming that this be the end, what stories untold,
What secrets blur in the darkened overlap?
Not any more the chuckling of youngsters' joy,
Not any more the dance of the waves adrift.
For assuming that this day proclaims the world's final gasp,
What inheritance stays in the afterlife?
However let us contemplate, in this last hour,
The magnificence of life's fragile blossom.
For even in the midst of the turmoil and despondency,
Love's delicate touch waits all around.
So assuming that this be the end, let us stand tall,
Confronting the chasm, joined together, the whole gang.
For in the cinders of what whenever had been,
Fresh starts emerge, from the profundities, inside.
Dulanka Thennakoon.
