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, 4 de dezembro de 2009

The Epic poem of the Darkness (77). Revolution of continuous discontinued

In the beginning they continue to become trained
that the world is very beautiful
Everything full of flowers. And that it is so beautiful to love in the world
That we deserved to be happy and that for that owed
To be sincere as the pure water
just when we drank her and we satiated the thirst

Later we learned that there is no understanding
because no we respected the divine heart (they say)
The bitterness, betrayals, hates, disgraces, unhappiness, and cruelties
and the hypocrisy
Rottenness of societies and ascensions
of dictators of fast destruction
Don't demonstrate me the maze of the happiness
And I am very thankful for everything that they didn't teach me

To write is to communicate what cannot be said
it doesn't interest to the rulers nor a little
if we are alive or died
The important is travel and we know the time
of the existence in this democratic circus
in the fair of the I owe and I don't pay
It is gets rich like this. To live to die, to live to steal
without exhaustion
In the wait of the death, because it is the illusion of the life
Per times I get to pass for another dimension.
It is there don't see the things as they were, but as they are.

I was born in sad Africa, or sad African
I avoid to meet, I flee of me
I sleep without dreaming
Until the nightmares they abandoned me
Dream of open eyes and I see thousands of ships
Crowds in the beaches that pursue me
and I hide in what remains of the civilization

I try smoothly to feel the sensation
Of this deep darkness
After the dramatic battles of every minute
for not shortening my life
In the many years of the crooked deals of the war
Because the purposes of my paradoxical existence
they will never be reminded

In the edge sand dune, real garbage can of inhuman bodies
I am as the clowns, river, I make to laugh
inside of me I am sad
I Laugh to hide my sadness
I am entitled of the imposition
of being quiet
The days precede me in the mist of the nights
Black darkness of the lost times
never recovered
I fear that has to leave for far
since here I don't see anybody for close

Revolution of continuous discontinued
In the he is hit of the spree are three days to sleep
some don't wake up
It was the colonialism, to follow liberators they came
Then the neo-colonialism. What will the one be is proceeded?!
In Black Africa, cradle and grave of the inhumanity

And the Angolan and international scum
he continues in the population unpunished spoliation
Always with Western support

But, because this riots delay?!

Image: Angola em fotos

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