We are sealing our doom

I glanced over the years at Lanka
And saw in this beautiful isle
The grandeur of the past generations
Their manifold works divine.

The colossal edifices standing
That speak of a mighty claim
A civilization that withstood two millennium and more
And has brought the country its fame.

The traditional values of a culture
Descended from ancestors of old
Bent on its preservation and nurture
For the offspring within their fold

Else, what purpose culture and tradition
If not preserved for generations to come
What purpose the boast of a nation
When the future years have come.

I perceived the solidarity of its people
Who stood together as one
Sinhala, Tamil, Muslim, Burgher
Who unitedly freedom won.

I thought apace of the lot of this land
As fifty nine years have flown
Sadly divided, in conflict embroiled
Devastating, massacring one’s own.

We have added nothing to its glamour
We have spurned our own heritage at will
Only contributed with confusion and clamour
And blasted the unity they built.

Fifty nine years of freedom should make us realize
That we are wallowing in uncalled for gloom
That when capable of rising to inestimable heights
We are only sealing our doom.

Then what of our future and what of our youth
When short–sighted paths we pursue
Let’s resolve our differences in honesty and truth
And united, a new path construe.

By Jeannette Cabraal, Kelaniya.