Sri Lanka

Dark, the soil which beckons
The ill to make their bed,
Thick, the thorns which thus protrude
From One who gives His head.

Sacrifice is not a glory,
It asks of all you have below,
And more, until your very life
Is given out to thus bestow

The very essence of your being,
And match it with the best of men,
So they can follow and repeat,
And write with ink of pen

The story of the Universe,
The reason we exist,
Love, in truth, is manifest,
When we have will, persist.