In Angola they feel prisoners political accused of any crime. They say that it is a democratic regime that it is in the middle of the joy of their functions. The democratic potencies close the eyes and they point that it is like this that it is good, that it is like this that it is made the stability in Africa. Here is the income of the terrorism of which Europe is not gotten to loosen. Who supports the corruption and their dictatorships, in the bottom it is also terrorist without the knowledge.

sexta-feira, 13 de fevereiro de 2009

The legend of your thought


The legend of a desirous thought of invading the finite of the Universe. Welcome the this raft of the love to the drift.

I need your lips in my womb and in my breasts
In the silence of the agitated nights

Without conviction, everything breaks in pieces
And it is the burning fire to consume the passion
He gets lost the reason
The wait is so painful and it suffers me closed in beating
Afflicted, oppressed as I felt never
I don't want more to return as orphan
I want to enter which fortune mountain.
To recover idol and to idolize me pure
To do a search of my world
although he listens
A hundred voices proclaim her that it is madness

I don't exhaust myself
I constrain myself of not running for the sand of the beach
forbidden
In an instant he moves a lot, a lot of thing

The statues of my breasts remodelled erects
As aphrodisiac fruit in the avidity, of the fright of the pleasure
They despair, they thaw the regulation of the life

And I loosen myself, I deify myself
Oh! As everything is easy
And however in this dictatorship, so difficult
I am just a fabled goddess never lover,
Because wanted by all the gods
And before the unreality of the things
without world

No, I am not here, I subtracted myself
But, not yet of exit
Have just made the maintenance of my wings
I don't know if I will fly

Don't fly… it hovers under fogged him
childish, of the no dreamed children's nests
Forever them solitary

And it jumps, and she runs… winner
Oh! As the Universe is so finite
It is will be never infinite

You will be fabled, you end of the being
The other side looks at you. Those steps
of your such comfortable staircase… I feel her
in trespassing of uncoiling of the lacework,
without tearing in the appetite
of that other geometric legend
that it the flame of the comma of the baby-doll

I will deepen you and I will reopen the channel
the furrow, the ditch, the bed, in the lake of your Taj-Mahal

Oh!.. I will dare to defoliate your rose field
And I will seek your lost rose of avidity, find him
Fertilise him and he will be born autumnal other rose field, a pilgrimage

Visit me also in: Universal, Universidade and Medicina


Sem comentários: