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.

terça-feira, 17 de novembro de 2009

The Epic poem of the Darkness (65). Tatiana Rusesabagina

The sorcery of Rwanda united us
when I hugged my dear friend Tatiana Rusesabagina
He always remains the memory of the Westerner slaughter
That the wars of the blacks only to them they belong
They are entitled of if they kill as well they understand

It is her war, it is among them. That they kill themselves, that great!
They be exterminated! How many better because they inconvenience a lot
They are deviations of the civilization, converted to the force, to the fork of the Christianity
As always the Whites fled
They left, they abandoned in the streets done of powder
That they were not moved before the mortuaries
Cemeteries outdoors, improvised

Massacred, quartered, they were like this the bodies, and their remains
abandoned. Failed to protect, give in the sun that in the soil the he toasted
he decomposed them. Everything seemed so unreal, as seeds thrown to the earth
without being cultivated. Crazy farmers that plant corpses
and they await that they are born plants to renew, to continue to kill
To stimulate the hate so that it serves as excuse to the genocide
and later to nickname him of Barbarians States

Before they were the crusades to free Jerusalem
Now they are to free Black, and everyday there is
Black crusades, pagans' slaughters
Dispersed corpses, habituated because they lost
the importance, they won the contempt of the abundance
Black Africa is a Rwanda diary

The champions of the democracy are perennial in the coexistence
Convenience, they support the dictatorships friends that guarantee his survival
It is as the militant literature, it defends the past
He darkens the present, it eliminates the future
We are nomads, we started the distemper to flee of the shots
and of the cutlass
We are food for jackals, hyenas, and vultures
And the political parties break in the mamma, of the cash in hand

There are many shines, but the dreams stay darkness, obscure


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