by Velupillei Prabhakaran
( February, 02, Paranthan, Sri Lanka Guardian)
This is my gun. This is my aim.
Wearing full military attire, I can play hell.
I am in the jungle. I am in the underground fortified palace.
If I pull my trigger, there will be hundreds of punches on the wall.
If I fire, Mathy will scream.
Sounds of the rounds will shiver my Dwarka.
Charlie of course parleying somewhere.
Oh no no no! I will not fire inside.
My dear young cadres.
This picture is for you of your Mr Motivator.
Analyse my picture. Worship my picture.
You can do wonders amidst superior Sinhala forces.
I follow Saddam’s style.
I follow Pol Pott style.
But I have my own field.
I am the smartest to
make the world wonder who I am.
I won’t die like Saddam.
I won’t die like Poll Pot.
I know how to die.
Cyanide pod under my chin
will say all one day.
(The Poet is a leader of the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam since 1976)
( February, 02, Paranthan, Sri Lanka Guardian)
This is my gun. This is my aim.
Wearing full military attire, I can play hell.
I am in the jungle. I am in the underground fortified palace.
If I pull my trigger, there will be hundreds of punches on the wall.
If I fire, Mathy will scream.
Sounds of the rounds will shiver my Dwarka.
Charlie of course parleying somewhere.
Oh no no no! I will not fire inside.
My dear young cadres.
This picture is for you of your Mr Motivator.
Analyse my picture. Worship my picture.
You can do wonders amidst superior Sinhala forces.
I follow Saddam’s style.
I follow Pol Pott style.
But I have my own field.
I am the smartest to
make the world wonder who I am.
I won’t die like Saddam.
I won’t die like Poll Pot.
I know how to die.
Cyanide pod under my chin
will say all one day.
(The Poet is a leader of the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam since 1976)
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