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, 5 de janeiro de 2010

The Epic Poem of the Darkness (90). Oh! As they are unfathomable the tragedies of the love

A democratic front is invented, of liberation
The computers develop, us no

I remember the happiness of beating in my heart door
the subtlety; of the rhythm
Which soft drum in the quietness of my heart
Of love without sky, without sun
illuminated misunderstood
Of looking deep, slow, to devour the life
The time as if it didn't exist, anything and nobody
As if the democratic world tumbled
and I only continued him

My soul is not gentile, it is always distant
Skies and lands however they stay
They continue inside of me to each instant
Remembering the soft cry sounding
Awaiting him not done, but whenever they did
In the daily fight of opening doors that go mad me
Pursued at the castles of the dictatorship
In the solitary to walk among the vectors, wandering
Something that is not, something that goes
As the melodious soft notes of a lute
To always want to walk but to be frequently
In crossing here and there with the vectors and not to look
Convict that I am the best but without virtue

Per times the wind hovered, as that undecided
and undecided it was also the guava tree
He would take a risk saying that she was cogitating
Will it be that the trees meditate?

The mother prostituted, the daughter studied
The more the mother sold herself
Plus the daughter was applied in the university
The mother precocity aged
The daughter precocity chose the studies of the life
The daughter rejuvenated, while the mother more and more
he aged
The mother loved his daughter that thanked
Oh! As they are unfathomable the tragedies of the love

The five youths lost the youth of the night in the disco
They found a lot of drink that was not prohibited to smallest
In the car driven by the alcohol they stubborn a trunk planted elephantine
They and the car travelled to the celestial discos
I don't get to imagine the stoicism of these poor trees


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