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.

domingo, 3 de janeiro de 2010

The Epic Poem of the Darkness (89). It Arrives! Enough! We exported petroleum and we imported alcohol and weapons


The wait is so painful and he makes me to suffer 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.
I will make myself idol and to idolize me pure
I will do a search of my world
With voices they proclaim her me that it is a madness
And not to build other bottomless abyss for my people

The sadness is already unbearable
I feel myself faint almost unfathomable
I await the arrival with his end.
With suite and great ceremonial
jewels and diamonds of the purest mineral
I won't order more to play music and to do great Carnival.
Great choirs announce her my eternal one
aberrant re-election
And dazzled, my descendants will reign
I will make a battle, a crusade, and a frame without picture
To hold my grace and charms always insecure
Not to leave never what to be born impure
To continue in him my love, my being
To leave in his seed a great wall, a wall
And future, to feel inside of me the life to be reborn

They abandoned me, they nailed me in a grave contained
In the trees a hundred sky, in a defoliated
It remains me the abasement of the humiliation
Without being reborn, living of the modern time
in his entangled web
Always waiting of the bitterness to be forced
without at least to describe a notebook
While the world runs for the future
And me, us, the people out of him to dream her
Everything forgetting in him impure
Living, suffering, waiting lonely to navigate
In the storms of the bridges and of the insecure stadiums

In 2010 dictatorial regimes still exist

And this unsustainable nausea of the domestic violence
and politics
He did with that: I don't want more husband!
Enough! Enough! We exported petroleum and we imported alcohol and weapons

I live together in the continent of the traffickers' of weapons war
of the piece of advice of safety of UN
With his consent, of UN, that they are just vulgar human beings
Of the new civilization of the holocaust, the governments are boycotted and they commit suicide
the populations to the most loathsome hunger civilisation
The organizations are added no government for us to multiply our hunger
Regressing at the crusaders' times and of the crusades
To Salomon’s temple, to the sacred chalice of the blood Rh P+, more petroleum
This very a lot of one badly managed that it is more than enough to illuminate us
But it is not enough, it thins us:

The electricity; of our darkness, of the always goes and little comes, he brings us badly other… the pollution of the tobacco of the generators
No affect the democracies because they lean on in the dictatorships oil companies
In the safety, small seating dictator, fence with a vulgar line
In the vulgarization of Kalashnikov he waits for the enemies of the parking

Image: Angola em fotos

Sem comentários: