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.

quinta-feira, 12 de novembro de 2009

The Epic poem of the Darkness (61). I am again in the prison to the wait that they free me


They embarked me in a ship
without jasmines
But even so I will perfume the seas
And in them forever I will record my name
in their waves

And in my eternal silence
I will avenge the desires of our past
and ancestors
In the Universe I will make a temple
so that the future navigators
Adore me and remember
even in a fleeting moment
That I existed, I loved… I tried but I was not loved

I won't fall asleep deeply
during one century, two or more
When the endocolonialism to globalise
I will wake up and I will cut into pieces them
and I will leave them my eternal fragrance

I will renew our blue blood
and I will extirpate the graves of the FAMILY
billionaire
And in them I will replant the aromas
of our bodies
lawns, greenish, of petals vegetated
After having watered with a storm
divine

This new seed will flood the Universe
I will be, the goddess's mermaid Angola
In the Earth of the pain reborn, undone
hostage of the King's palace no elect
of tumultuous future

Free and independent of the terrorism
bank and real estate
I will avenge the children's innocent glance
Killed of hunger, of diseases
Without ceilings, condemned
for the inclement, marshy
rainy stations

And the endocolonialist in the windows
Nazis take delight with the slaughter
but they won't survive
And million million
of dollars they will recover

And the towers, and the condominiums
and the buildings that stole us
also

And the children without graves
they will dream about my petals
And there will be an infantile war
That it will devastate the new demented
Gentlemen, false doctors

And when my lips kiss
the children
they will resurrect
And they will become jasmines
and in the ship of the genius of the jasmines
they will be transported for my kingdom
I will build my nocturnal beauty
in the history of our skies
and I will be worshipped Jasmine-give-night

I will hover in the magic of our mountains
and I will renew, I will free the Roads
of the monarchic dictatorship
there we will be

the wounds of our misfortune
they are as infected rocks
because Angola rejuvenated
he continues very good refuge
for criminals and adventurers
Where the destinies are easy
of imagining

I am again in the prison
to the wait that they free me

For the visas
I will never find the love

I will dance to the sound of the wind
in spite of abandoned, of my paradise
moved away
It was supplied, now in the forced poverty
of the multinationals and of the royal family
these inhuman ones are our perdition
Light, manufactured without weight
as the immodest bread

I am Black, because the ships were White
It is suddenly everything darkened
he grew dark

Image: Angola em fotos

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