By: Indunil Madhusankha

With her head lent against the front post
of the shack,
she plunges into freakishly terrible concentration
Dumbfounded and as still as the motionless stump
Her mouth is open in blighting apprehension
The fear that tortures her like a brewing gash
under which there lies the truth,
the very truth
which she is scared to think of
All evils searing her deranged mind
like a bomb ever blasting
The zing of bullets and shellfire
shown on the image box
wounding her heart again and again
Bolls of tears well out and thrash the floor
disintegrating into drops
Her lub-dub would increase
as the postman knocks his vibrating bell
The figures looming and fading at the pathway
spattering her hopes over and over again
Her son at the repulsive hearse of cannons
Sans a message she shrinks in approaching death
Sleep slides from her like a fiend in a nightmare
At the feet of the Buddha statue,
she goes down on her knees
with her hands clasped together
and chants ceaseless prayers
No light in the dark
The lantern is broken!