When it all seemed so clouded and certain

There came a time I wanted a way out.

I had imagined the loneliness, the pretense and unfaithfulness

Of a future so sure, yet unknown.


I had always felt the pain, the agony of truth,

The truth they always say does hurt.


Every tunnel has an end,

An end with a bright light,

An all welcoming sight.


Every race – tiresome,

But the end – victorious,

If need maybe.


YOU, dear dearest are God’s cellared wine,

Kept hidden, so sweet as sweet you maybe,

Befitting a king, a right royal guest,

But I, your trusted taster shall break open the cellar,

Steal you for one more glass and never,

Never return you back.


So spare yourself and never cease to be,

The taste that quenches all my thirst.


– Oshanthaka Cabraal


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